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The ever-ending something that sends one over the edge. The final straw. It breaks ones spirit, leaving the human entity grasping at every little shred of evidence available just to stay afloat, or keep their feet on the ground.
I can't count the number of times I have thought the same thing. This is the final straw. And yet, I am still here, still grasping, still believing that justice will eventually be served. Maybe not here on earth, maybe in the other realm, or perhaps I will get lucky enough to see that justice is served. Perhaps I will understand why so many different things happen to good people. People who try so hard to not break the laws, or who are doing their best to just survive this lifetime.
Are the final straws what give us the courage to hang on? Are they what make us want to succeed that much more? To try to understand that perhaps what we thought was a mistake wasn't actually a mistake?
I have gotten to the point where making plans is a totally useless thing for me to do. Those plans I make, they never get done. Something, or perhaps someone has a better plan than I do. A very long time ago, when I was around 18ish, I told God, The Creator of this Universe, that I just didn't know what to do with this life, this gift He so graciously bestowed on me and that He should just take control. Sometimes, it is very hard for me to remember that I relinquished that control, because basically I am a control freak, who wants to make her own way in this world. But, then all of a sudden a kink gets thrown in and it just doesn't happen.
It becomes one of those "FINAL STRAWS". I rant, I cry a little, and then once again, I say, "OH YEAH, I can do this. I know darn well I can", and I start the project all over. Without the plan. I know the plan is already in place and I just do my best to accept it.
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