I suppose this is where existentialism comes into play.
I just wish I had more of a concrete time line to things like memories, pain, happiness, mistakes, and existence. Maybe then I could further analyze the worth of each and properly utilize more efficient time management skills my awesome community college talks about.
Perhaps, it remains a mystery because if we knew the treacherous obstacles ahead of a beautifully gratifying life..we would focus on the harrowing events, forgetting all about the rest. I suppose mystery is what allows us to live in only moderate amounts of fear.
However, It is with great despondency, I have found the personal definition of what it means to feel and be, utterly enervated. To be drained of any and all emotion because to conjure them back up is far too painful. . .not to mention exhausting. This is what bothers me: Had I known the timeline to these sequence of events, I would have done things extraordinarily different. To face the daunting probability of repetition without intentional homicide (don't judge me...I know you've seen the show “Snapped.”) I'm simply too tired to start this whole process all over again.
Despite the superhuman efforts that were miraculously made by yours truly, I am now forcibly about to witness a vanishing act in the convoluted magic abyss of the law. I believe a “WTF” is applicable here.
I should warn you: This in particular is a slight concoction of a self loathing pity party and a test of my jaded emotional state. However, the “backbone” if you will, is of the same source. The same source that it has always been and never successfully able to destroy. I really am at a loss of words but have that irritating and powerfully overwhelming force within that is screaming at me to say something with all I have at this horrific validity I never wanted to be, but of course, is life. This is my present reality and I have no brilliant nor perplexing idea actuated. I used them all. This is an inscrutable time. I wonder why...I need to know why.
I believe my mom is the one who spoke to me about your first instincts being the most potent. When we second guess that or allot time to pass, it becomes ambiguous. That is when confusion and contempt set up shop. I really wish I listened to my mom.
I miss the days when that's all it took; moms advice, some form of a sugar rush, and stealing my brothers GI Joe's so Barbie could finally leave Ken.
Hey….I never said I was normal.
...Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to download a magic 8 ball app on my phone and leave life's journey up to fate from now on.
