Thoughtful prose.
The never-ending cycle of life and chaos mixes into the cauldron of what is, what it was, and what it will be. For now, I stay in the present. The future is an obscure globe of clouded substances.
No fortune teller can see through this crystal ball.
Round and round it turns kicking up a fuss. All the dirt and muck from ages ago swirl together to create the now. The now is fine. It is not a terrible monster consuming its prey. It is, as always, existence.
Carry on.
Carry on.
Carry on.
Prompt by Bella Smith ⭐in Promptly Written [“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” — Aristotle]
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