When the Time Comes

At some point it just doesn't work anymore. You know, the bitching, cajoling, finger pointing, all the smarty-pants see-I-told-you-so superiority of the frustrated intellectual trying to get some attention. When it no longer works for you because it is so empty that it drains you of your drops of life-blood, you will know that you have to jump ship, bail, drop out, or just cut and run. What you run to will be the tonic of song, of sweet desert breezes, of giving up having to win or be right. You will have to dig into loamy compost of your mistakes to find the missing humanity, the humility beneath your snot-nosed, youthful arrogance. If you linger too long in the tribe of malcontent, you too will turn into a pillar of bitter, crumbling logic. So, take heart, sweep your chips from the table, and break for the open door, the streaming light of risk and slim chances. What have you got to lose?