I deserve more don’t I? Or perhaps I don’t. I don’t even know anymore. Maybe we’re born destined for greatness or destined for failure. If you asked me a decade ago, I’d have told you that I was going to grow tall and strong and wise. That I’d be ambitious and successful.
Now I would tell you that I was never meant for that. My legs are short, and my mind distant. And in my so popularly annoying self loathing I’d tell you that the only way to stop this grip tightening curse is to avoid procreating and stop it from passing on.
I don’t care anymore. I mean, maybe I do, but after awhile it gets rather exhausting don’t it? And when the only one who cares is you, well then best to just don’t.
Life is full of patterns. You ever notice that although you change dramatically and everything in your life does too, life never really is different. It’s the same. The same old story, just a new chapter.