Ever get that feeling. Of starting on time, to go absolutely nowehere. There is no sense of direction. Nothing to guide you and yet, when you arrive, you realise you are oh so on time!
Life throws different challenges at you, sometimes it thorws them at your head, sometimes at even more delicate parts of your anatomy and you need to be prepared to hang around for the next challenge. It is a little like smoking. Every stick is apparently your last, till the next one comes along!
Why would you try so hard, prepare yourself and pack well, for journeys best not taken. What satisfaction do we get for competing with all those around us in search of imaginary destinations with unknown prizes for our toils.
Any answers?
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