Exit

It is five-thirty in the afternoon. From where I sit, I would think that it’s five AM had I crossed different time zones and day met day. Everyone had their eyes closed. I am the exception. And all I see is a small, illuminated exit sign.

I had a good weekend with my friend. Talking soft in speakeasy bars and laughing hard in many strangers’ backseats. We had this all planned out. The coming year would be a year of big decisions. The weekend was our season finale.

We set our gaze on larger than life ambitions. Unsure ones. Scary. But what else is life for? Be ambitious. Even if everything is stupid vague. Even if for every step that your heart wants to make your mind pulls you back. The apprehension is part of the process. The failure because of half-heartedness is part of the process. And learning from it is part of the process, too. Everything is important. No matter how marginal. No matter how crushing. Everything is important. At least I would like to think of it that way.

So carry on, I tell myself. I confront life’s mystery with this life that I rented from who put me where I am. Most days are just shit. Fucking shit. Ridiculous. Dreams not happening. Not having dreams at all. Some say all you have to do is stay focused on your dream and you’ll get there someday. What fucking dream? I don’t have one. But carry on, I tell myself. Because this life is mine. And if life is being a foggy, zigzag road, I’ll still hit the road and drive away. It’s the only way to justify.

I’m too fickle that my fickleness makes me laugh sometimes. The sad humor of a human in trance. I bet I am not alone in this. My friend, I’m telling you, let’s just go. Don’t forget to dress for the occasion. I heard mascara and red lipstick is like coffee for the face. Stay awake.

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