The more I do, see, and learn, the more it becomes clear that everything I become involved with becomes a disaster of heroic proportion.
I hate what I do to the world around me, and I hate myself for doing it. I feel like a clumsy child trying to repair painted eggshells and smashing them all in the process.
The world would be a better place if I weren’t involved. The eggshells might still be broken, but they wouldn’t be destroyed.