What goes around, comes around. You reap what you sew. You made your bed, now lie in it. Sometimes, although hesitantly, I am forced to believe that all these phrases, and their friends who echo the same sentiments, are simply creations by a hopeful breed. A breed that wants to believe that there is balance to the madness that exists.
The beauty that exists is awe inspiring as well, please do not discount the beauty.
I fear that we little humans have created methods of thinking with which we swaddle ourselves in on cold days and nights in an attempt to explain the imbalance that teeters all around us.
Karma is a bitch. Truth emanates from the depth of this statement. Have you noticed though that at times, it seems that karma strikes rather haphazardly. As if the administrative assistant paid to keep the excel sheet with names and appropriate consequences/blessings organized has taken up chatting at the water cooler all afternoon.
This is my formal plea to the karma administrative assistant. Could you please, at least for the next few months, focus on the spreadsheet? I know the cells and columns and various colors from which to choose regarding font can be overwhelming but please...FOCUS.
Mama needs for balance to return.
For the questionable to receive what questionable individuals shall. For those who have integrity brimming and falling over the sides of their universes to receive what shall come their way as well.
Hey, um, how the heck do I email you? Also, do you have Skype?
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