You cannot run away from a weakness; you must sometime fight it out or perish. And if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?
I put a dollar in one of those change machines. Nothing changed.
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
