Bookmark #513

I woke up feeling much better than I had in the evening before. A little ache in the body and temperature can do that to you. But even though I had woken up feeling better, I was still languid and slow. And so, I did not write until the day had gotten on already. It was afternoon. It began to rain. I was not expecting it. I was not expecting many things, yet here we are, and yet, this is my life. It is rare to get what you expect, but that does not make it better. In fact, I feel in most cases, it makes it worse. To get what you wanted—what a tragedy. Most life happens in the gap between the wants and what is received in the end. The trick, as there always is a trick with things like these, is to accept it kindly. If it rains on a September afternoon, you must smile at it; if you expect rain and it is sunny, you must do the same. We rarely get what we expect; most life is lived this way; it is the only way to live.

It is evening now, and this is a day like countless others, but that does not make it worse, as most would think. In fact, it only makes it perfect. To have the same day over and over again may be tedious for many, but it is a blessing. When nothing goes wrong, we must stop and acknowledge it.

The world is coloured in the sweet sepia of the sun setting behind the haze of the city, and here I sit with my coffee, working. What a life, I tell myself. I will remember this day, or at least gather a vague memory of it years from now. It will be when things get tumultuous and turbulent. Amidst all the chaos, I will find a moment to sit down as one usually does, and I will tell myself: what a day that was; nothing happened that day; it was a blessing in disguise.

It always is a blessing in disguise.

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