We hold on and on. Like glue we hold. So strong, so strong. This record, yet scratched, never gets old.
We hold on because it’s comfortable. It’s familiar. I’s safe. We’ve known this for so long that letting go of it now is almost like cutting off an arm or something. It’s become so part of us – so part of our identity.
We hold on because we love. We want to keep what we love for as long as physically possible.
We hold on because we have no motivation to seek any better. We settle for what we have because it’s good enough, easy enough, simple enough.
We hold on because we are scared. We fear that if we let go then we will never find a replacement.
We hold on because it feels good, even when it hurts. Like massaging a sore back after a long day of work.
We hold on because it interests us. It increases our status in some way. It rubs our ego.
We hold on because we want to show an image to the world. What’s more important than keeping up with the Kardashians? Duh.
We hold on because there’s a mutual benefit. Something to learn. Something that nourishes our souls.
We hold on because we want to be supported. We don’t want to feel alone.
We hold on because we feel like it. And feeling is always sufficient reason.
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