Ostentatiously Making Sense

It could be that one creates the ends that come about in one's life, whether one may like them or one may not. The ceaseless naggings of self-doubt wears on one after a while, that one is compelled to choose self-preservation above otherwise important priorities. The rationality of such personal uncertainties does not even substantiate such choice to be chosen. Anxiety is so much a human essence, so embedded into the most basic core of being, that the responses are practically automatisms. Notwithstanding, you learn to frown upon such mechanisms of the human psyche, albeit subconscious and so, involuntary, for the unhealthy outcomes it can create in relationships. When in certain instances you would only aspire for the happy continuance of such intimate connections, the invisible triggers of anxiety and its spontaneous outputs fairly manage to complicate the simplicity of such goals. The road to accomplishing supposedly simple objectives becomes riddled with all manner of hindrances, that the traveler down such road undoubtedly experiences adversities, often in varying intensities. Furthermore, it is often than not that the unfortunate pilgrim is tested beyond his limits and is continually made to confront his imperfections by overcoming them, which does not at all seem uncomplicated, even just by itself. One is hence inclined to sigh both in pity for the journeying fellow and in the stark realization that it is simply the way that all life proceeds, though there is anything but simple about it. Life is intrinsically complicated, arduous, and problematic. All are hopelessly intricately entangled by a pernicious coincidence into its unintelligible tapestry.