I find as I get older, the less damn I give. Tides change, man as well. I want less, and do more. It’s a never ending cycle of betterment. I feel time slip between my fingers. I feel disappointment daily. I want more for my son and husband. I can never give or do enough. Granted, I still do not feel old. Is that coming, or will I ever? My face ages, my spirit does not.
Irony, I love and I loathe you.