When crustations reach a certain size, the struggle to molt their old shells can kill them.
This kind of romanticization of struggle only applies to people for whom their struggle has paid off. Some struggle their whole lives only to receive nothing, and that hardly seems worth glorifying.
As someone who has been on the brink of death for two years, who has little way out. Who has lost everything they thought made life worth living. Whose future is entirely out of their hands and in the random process of biology and whims of some higher ups in power.
Maybe the struggle to survive is life itself? I know my struggle doesn’t lead anywhere. Merely delaying the inevitable and prolonging suffering. But also I can’t help myself not to have irrational hope, to hope for a better future, to struggle every day, because the alternative is “the end”.
When crustations reach a certain size, the struggle to molt their old shells can kill them.
This kind of romanticization of struggle only applies to people for whom their struggle has paid off. Some struggle their whole lives only to receive nothing, and that hardly seems worth glorifying.
As someone who has been on the brink of death for two years, who has little way out. Who has lost everything they thought made life worth living. Whose future is entirely out of their hands and in the random process of biology and whims of some higher ups in power.
Maybe the struggle to survive is life itself? I know my struggle doesn’t lead anywhere. Merely delaying the inevitable and prolonging suffering. But also I can’t help myself not to have irrational hope, to hope for a better future, to struggle every day, because the alternative is “the end”.
Yeah it’s not really good in itself