Always in Search of Wonderland

I’m trying to find my way in the woods of my own self-doubt.

Life isn’t magic — or that’s what they want you to believe. Every single moment you take for work or obligation or the daily grind is just another precious second you’re giving in exchange for a life that may not mean much at all by its end.

Work, work, work and make that money, money, money. Gotta pay that rent and mortgage, gotta chip away at that student loan debt, gotta feed the kids and the dog and save up the leftover pennies for retirement (since you keep hearing social security is on its way out when the next generation needs it).

I hear that call too. I have cats to feed and debt to pay off and medication to buy. Every single knock on the door of opportunity falls unanswered. I’m standing at a precipice of my own making and wondering why I didn’t try harder. Maybe I wouldn’t be facing down a monster in the mirror then.

All this lack of success — surely it’s my fault for not working 80 or 120 hours a week. Why do you need a life when you can make the money that makes the world go ‘round? You may not be able to take it with you on the way out, but at least you can show it off and flaunt it with the best of them. Right?