At some point I’ve developed an apathy to my own drama that I’d want to bang my head on the wall (but wouldn’t dare go to great lengths to literally do so). There’s no point in crying unless for catharsis; if it make us feel good to wail and sob, a reliever that helps vent out our anger at the world (oh, how unfair it is!) or at someone. I stop midway whenever I catch myself complaining and lamenting my discontent because the whole circumstance boomerangs back to me. No, it’s not being hard on myself, but rather it’s an illumined understanding of the universal laws we’re bound to.

I frustrate myself when I clearly see my disposition to despise an unpleasant situation I got myself in. When I had to go through almost a hundred times with one Candy Crush level, I know it reflects my poor problem-solving skills in life, always feeling like I’ve been at the end of my rope forever yet I perpetuate the aggravating problems myself by running around in circles. I know something has to change but disheartened how the risks are too great. And when I solve the difficult level? Ecstatic am I! But, wait, do I bask in this small success forever? It’s a trap because the challenges only get more and more difficult with each rung I surpass.

The disposition to despise subsequently brings me back to the center, back to focus. It’s a waste of energy to linger in it, though. Somehow The Hanged Man in the Tarot has to get himself unstuck.

 

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