Excerpts I'll Never Tell

The Thing Called Life

There's this thing that keeps me aware and conscious even when I don't want to be. It's hard to admit because I'm genuinely such a complexing person at times- even to myself. Or maybe I'm not? I'm not depressed anymore, or well, I don't know. Maybe I am. Life is hard. It's the most complexing simple thing.

I am okay and I am not okay in the same breath. I cry for no reason a lot, but then I cry for all of the reasons. I wonder if this is what it is like for everyone yanno? Being so overwhelmingly underwhelmed with that thing called life.

I'm a realist with the mind of a dreamer. Constantly watching the stars above me when given the chance, contemplating life, all of it's ways, and where - how I will end up.

I have ideas on how it will go and end, but I used to have such a positive outlook. I want that dreamer stance back that I can make into a reality. I want to be that woman that hasn't given up in love and her aspirations all because she did as a girl all that time ago. I don't want to believe it's the real end of the things I know that I truly want and aspire for.

I don't know what happened. I don't know why I allowed myself to be corrupted into someone who didn't dream, believe it was possible, and make it into a reality. I feel like a light faded. I want it, no, need it back. I need willpower to make it all happen.

Ugh. See that thing called life?

It fucking sucks.

Until you change it, and follow your aspirations and heart.

"Go get em' kid"