A Conclusion Drawn from the Aftermath of Every Expecation
It has come to my attention recently by trial upon trial that expectations are inherently redundant.
Not one expectation I've ever had has been met exactly. Not that inklings haven't ever been rooted in eventual truth, but those inklings when expanded and expounded upon in my own mind and the various gaps and holes filled with details have never wrought fruit that bore the same DNA.
It is such a discovery that has led me to the following principle:
I will no longer expect anything. Does this seem to you to reek of radicalism? Have I been cajoled by the narcissistic tendency to view each self-discovery as transcendent?
However, disappointment only comes when one's expectations are not met, and so, I will no longer partake in this everlasting game of expect, receive and reject.
I look forward to your response.
A Newly Contented Non-Participant of Expectation