‘When The Soul Suffers Too Much, It Develops A Taste For Misfortune.’ -Albert Camus

On a shitty day, I’ll gamble with myself

‘ If even one good thing happens to me today, I will be okay.’

At first glance it seems the odds are stacked in my favour

Only I’m not a very good gambler

And I find myself on the losing end of that bet more often than I’d care to admit

One

Good

Thing

It doesn’t seem like much

Nor does it seem like something that would be hard to come by

But when you’ve stopped working

Your world becomes frighteningly small

Leaving you with less possibilities for something

And there’s only so many times you can count your dogs something good that happened

Without starting to feel like you’re lying to yourself

Maybe it’s the combination of illnesses that I carry

That make it harder and harder to be on the winning side of that bet

Maybe it’s luck

I don’t know

I think I’m one of those people that can lament that if it weren’t for bad luck, they’d have none at all

So I like calling it a bet or a gamble

Because when you’re calling it hope

And you lose….

It’s just so much more disheartening

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