I’ve been down with the magnificent combination of flu and lady pains. I was feeling like a doormat for a couple days. So I put on my bell bottoms and bright orange tassel earrings and threw some Carly Simon. Next time with a proper lace body suit (I’m thinking old rose oohlala), maybe! Just trying to dance it out. Making life work when it seems to be buried by layers of responsib******* (censoring it because I don’t want to summon more of it).
Times-a-changin’. I realized no one can really get me out of bed when I don’t wanna. It’s a cool and terrifying reality of Life. You have your shit together and you don’t. Some people chase trains, deal with morning sickness, and fulfill other people’s dreams. And here I am.
Here I am living the life I chose for myself. I’m both cool and terrified about it. Yet again, what’s not to love? It’s the freakin 20somethins! I’m supposed to not figure my shit out. I’m supposed to be in communion with the vast majority of sad. My people! It’s funny that we all are facing levels of sad. Nobody is really doing better. There is no point in checking what others are up to because they are as fucked.
Dancing outside the lines of the in between,