We’re not concerned with that second prediction on its way, nor the others to come. We play our hand day to day which mostly involves balls. While my oldest prefers a prolate spheroid shape to amuse himself with, the younger ones prefer modest round ones instead. We get a lot of play in. We are committed. You miss too much if you place all you got on stormy words. Be mindful of the words you accept as thoughts and the words that roll off your tongue. As of late, I am witnessing a whole lot of reactive behavior, blustery and tempestuous, I know the weight the mind carries with said words. They sink into obsessive thoughts and settle right into our cells and our will is then set.
Conjuring up an event and its outcome time and time again gets tiring. I prefer to run afoul of the self-appointed few with such acumen, especially when a magical elixir is always involved. We’re better off exhausting ourselves with kicking a ball around and breaking a sweat under the red UV of the setting sun. While they are not what doctors order for anymore, yet they are certainly what grandma bade of us. And who among us didn’t do as they were bidden by our caring grandmother? And wasn’t she right, barely making it into bed to surrender and devote time to our nightly regenerative plug-in. As we wait until the end of the world, we will carry on with our balls under the enchanting canvass of a setting sun and in our reticence know that we deserve much more. Make your words tell your story before the dream is going but never gone.