random consolation

Even careening down thistle hill, there are thoughts that bring comfort.

(which is only fair, since it was them doing the tormenting)

Consoling to think that I require much more forgiveness than is required of me.

To realize that I am neither as good looking nor talented as I think I am.

To reflect on how failing to live up to lofty principles kills you slowly enough to allow for redemption.

And smile at the absolute assurance that life is sweet, (as evidenced in fruit and clear water), ordered for good (in that Nature seeks balance), full of more good people than bad (as seen in your own friends), and finally that death and the constant possibility of death make the whole experience more beautiful.

Roland Orzabal sang: "you think what makes it easier."

Maybe I am. Though I never thought of myself as one interested in ease.

But if I can think a thought that makes a nectarine an electric joy machine, why not?