Most of my life has been comparable to this never ending, god awful, wish it never existed, carnival ride, that our parents always think we love, and will forever force us to get on, until that ONE day when we are at an extreme breaking point or dammit we are now legal adults! BLAH!
OR for you retards that live in a box. My life is that big ol' muddy river we all like to look at. Sometimes we hop into a huge banana looking aluminum tub and pretend to be catching fish in the vasteness of water. Other times we lay out in huge sand box where the cancer causing UV rays pentrate our skin as we conversate with less than average intelligence while boasting about our high tolerance to alcohol and how we may quit smoking next week if something stupidly stressful doesnt happen. WHICH by the way...something stupidly stressful will ALWAYS happen when we expect it.
BUT anyway. Here I am rambling about something you are most likely clueless about. MY life.
Well. Its twisting me around, tossing my hair, and showering me with mist as it quietly dismounts me on to the shore each night. As I lay there exhausted and trying to figure out just how the hell i am where I am, a small creature with eyes as glossy as my own look lovingly with curiousity at me and ask? but why mommy? but why?
That is exactly my question! Well maybe not really the same. I do know WHY we need to go to bed. But I don't know why I continue to pit myself against myself each and every living day.
What is it that makes me defend my own right to succeed? The chaos of setting achievable goals has caused the next largest hurricane to spin my frequently lost mind into total self destructive paths. And really...the problem that which ails me is yet to be clearly stated as i frequently get lost in a tangle of words...and still yet, this problem is not even close to being a catastrophy.
Am I worth rising above when everyone else is waitin for the shot to kill my hope? Can I really move ahead with someone pulling me down and out?
AHHH! It is something we shall wait to see. As I breathe a deep sigh of nicotine polluted air and step back into a house where a toddler screams and a dog barks and the never ending desperation of telemarketers steadily ring, I am quite content with saying yes, this is my life.
