The days are long, the nights are short, and I seem to get tossed between them like the hurricane that devastates the east coast. My life is starting to feel like a string of decisions, one harder than the next, choosing between the things  I love and the things I need. I have my constants, my beautiful blue eyed constant, my strong solemn constant, my craze-balls constant, The constants that inspire me to put one foot in front of the other through intense heat and billowing storms; but still I have the hanging weary sagged shoulders of decision making. So what it comes down to is how hard I'm willing to trudge through the quicksand in my fire swamp. Whenever someone says to me their life is hard, generally I find a nice way of saying "suck it up, it could be worse." so maybe instead of letting my nose slip below the lip of the sand, I can churn it to glass, and shatter free. Tip-toeing on the scale seems to be the only option, but I know better than Indiana; you can't trick the scale with a bag of pebbles to meet my desires.

"If you are going through hell, keep going."
-Winston Churchill