To seek gravity.

How much longer will I chase humility [sometimes sincerely, sometimes begrudgingly] only to hate it when I'm humbled? When will the failures stop stinging? When will I learn how to handle the messes I make?

I want to stop making mistakes, I want to stop being foolish, I want to kill my pride and be done with it. Clean and quick, as though the process were wart removal and not open heart surgery.

Like a detox from a drug, you can't speed the process, you can't quell the pain, that undermines the struggle. Maybe it's better this way, to know how ugly I really am in order to embrace the beauty of my Deliverer.

I just want to know there's an end in sight. [Oh, but there is. It just seems far away right now. I'll never get there if I don't keep running.]