There is a parable about holding a fistful of sand. I'm not sure exactly how it goes, but the moral was that the tighter you tried to hold on, the faster the sand spilled out.
I thought of something else in this context.
Sometimes, you hold on for so long that you forget why. You don't even realise your fist is clenched. When you do; when you eventually work up enough courage and open your hand, there will still be a few grains stuck in your palm. Those are regret, doubt, desire, sadness and... faint memories of the hope and possibility that made you pick up the sand in the first place.
The problem with sand of course is that you'll never successfully manage to dust off every grain.
Song for the moment: Slipping Away - Moby feat. Alison Moyet
I thought of something else in this context.
Sometimes, you hold on for so long that you forget why. You don't even realise your fist is clenched. When you do; when you eventually work up enough courage and open your hand, there will still be a few grains stuck in your palm. Those are regret, doubt, desire, sadness and... faint memories of the hope and possibility that made you pick up the sand in the first place.
The problem with sand of course is that you'll never successfully manage to dust off every grain.
Song for the moment: Slipping Away - Moby feat. Alison Moyet
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