Hard Times

I feel like a piece of wood floats over the water of a wild river. Sometimes the waves push it up and sometimes down. Sometimes it descends to the bottom and sometimes it is pushed against the hard rocks. All this because it is driven by the powerful river. When you see it floats, that doesn’t mean it is a good swimmer.

Me too, when you know I do something right it doesn’t mean that I am a winner. When I compare myself with others I see myself as a swimmer with a very short arms trying to race with a very powerful swimmers through a very wild river.

Now the river pushes me downward. I am now at the bottom. You know what? I prefer to stay there where there are no expectations or persuading towards any hope ends with nothing.