So many turns in the road later ... RoRo is on good terms with my dad; I am in interesting spirits to say the least, a little bruised by my own psyche (whatever that means), all in all accepting that everything bad that happens here is my fault. I hate this burden; it's a bag I carry, woven out of my own fears and longings.
More and more I would like to say it is about acceptance and much less about discontent. There is something inside of me which I will have to extinguish, and it's a very strange thing that I never would have imagined, but at the same time, have partly expected.
What we do in this lifetime. What's worth it.
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