Here we go again, around the sun

and my guts are giving me grief.


Can I make it to the end

of the year? Or even

the end of the week?


Grin and bear it!

Mum’s motto.


She’s gone

now.

A nonet about the new year, shared with W3 #193

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Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

What We Control And What We Don’t

Opinion, choice and desire are ours
Free, unhindered, unobstructed
While our body, position and reputation
Are all too easily disrupted