(no subject)
Sometimes I forget to watch my back and end up in some kind of mess I can’t stand to take responsibility for. So I blame some inherited trait that’s been in my family for years. Aunt Carmen could never get it right either. She was always getting restless and setting out to find a world she could fit herself into. Maybe if I would take some time to sort out my cluttered head and surrender myself to a higher power, things would be different. Things would be okay. But I’m not looking for better quality. I just don’t want to live a lie. I don’t want to end up like the people I sit with at the dinner table. I guess I’m expecting too much. I’ve always been a bit too dramatic. But I look at them as I’m picking at my greens and I can’t help but hope I won’t have to follow in their footsteps. I hope I make it. They tell me they were just like me when they were kids and I freak out. I feel like it’s already been decided who I am going to be in 20 years. I feel doomed to their same patterns; sleeping in different beds.
I love you, but I don’t want to be like you.