I would like to acknowledge the fact that I can be rather inconsistent at times.
Some days my Jazz Hands are abhorrent. On others they're taking over the world...or saving the world...or saving the world by taking it over...or taking over the world by saving it.
See what I mean?
Every consistency has deviation. Every success, potential failure. The humblest symbols of strength can be monumental to the meek while strength can crumble under the catastrophe of a subtle blemish.
Contradiction gives us tension gives us balance gives us harmony.
Some days I want to slink away and hide from the world. On others I want to conquer it. Some days I see the significance in the little things. On others, insignificance in the monumental.
Some days I believe we can all be systematically categorized and that none of us are as unique as we'd like to think we are. On others I believe that there is no way possible two people share the same combination of categorical traits (notice I did not completely concede there).
I prefer not to see this as hypocrisy. I see this as contrast and if it were not for contrast we would not see anything at all. I prefer to see this as tension, and if it were not for tension we would not feel anything at all. I prefer to see this as friction and if it were not for friction our wheels would endlessly spin, taking us nowhere at all.
What would anticipation be without time pressed firm against it? Resiliency is another way of expressing a hardship's opposing force.
There can be no challenge in the absence of opposition. Tension holds us together and pumps blood through our veins. My hands moving in complete opposition, yet strangely unified, deploy today's version of Jazz Hands.
Day one-hundred and fifty-five complete.
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