Living
I've come to realize that nine times out of ten, I'll probably won't like, accept, or agree with what happens to me. Most likely, I'll probably be forced into a life of mediocrity, one set in surburbia, where the days are always sunny and the people smile for no reason. Undoubtedly, I'll hate this life. Abhor it, really. I'll probably leave my idiot husband and my ADHD-ionized children after a night of one too many tequila shots and a pitcher of Sangria, and find myself even more so confused than I was in the first place. The journey from there will be a long laborous one, one filled with dead ends, yield signs, and those little blue ones on the side of the highway that no one really understands, but assumes that it serves some kind of important purpose anyway. I'll probably get lost once or thrice and even find myself entrapt in one of those proverbial circles where the merry go round, round, round...
But they never go anywhere.
I'll probably cry alot, more than your average person with a heart of steel should, and even contemplate things that no person should think about, let alone act out. I'll probably be scared to be alone with my thoughts, too scared to let myself explore the vast intricacies of my own head. I will probably go through all of this, all of this suffering, confusion, insanity, and general hysteria, and the thing that will make all of the difference in the world is that at the end of it all, I would have LIVED.
flo...
But they never go anywhere.
I'll probably cry alot, more than your average person with a heart of steel should, and even contemplate things that no person should think about, let alone act out. I'll probably be scared to be alone with my thoughts, too scared to let myself explore the vast intricacies of my own head. I will probably go through all of this, all of this suffering, confusion, insanity, and general hysteria, and the thing that will make all of the difference in the world is that at the end of it all, I would have LIVED.
flo...