It is what it is. It isn’t what I wanted (and if you’re reading this, it probably isn’t what you wanted, either). That hurts. Of course it does. But at this point I have a choice. I can lay down on the ground, licking my wounds, complaining about how it was unfair. I can feel sorry for myself; let my anger consume me. Or I can pick myself up, dust myself down, and channel my anger. Get on with getting on. Keep trying to get my voice heard. Make a noise. Say it how I see it. Be the Thorn in the side of the Establishment. Punk did that, way back when. And if you shout out long enough, eventually someone is going to have to listen. Even if it’s a bumpy track, I’m up for the ride.
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