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I'm tired of the never ending shuffling of things into the past. Farther and farther out of reach. Farther and farther from my hands, my body, leaving me alone and pathetic. I've always considered living in the past a weakness. I am weak. There's nothing to see here, people, keep moving on. My past is filled with music and love and hope and promises. My present is full of needed effort, wasted dreams rising like Cthulu from the depths of my subconscious, as dissatisfied with the murk of my brain as the monster in regular water. My clothes bag and fold around me. I neatly compress myself into a chair, and stare at the wall. _ I love you I miss you I want you where are you? You left. You abandoned me. Or did I drive all of you away? I know I can be posion. I know how I hurt you. I don't know why. The thrill ride is officially over, and I'm left, bereft and desolote, singing songs of the past and dreading moving forward._
So here I am an official “adult” I suppose it was bound to happen and even the best of us end up here I mean come on look at the generation of free love and communal well being now lawyers and CEO’s awaiting a pension plan.
I’m afraid I’m falling into a box that’ll be trapped in forever and its everything that I’m supposed to have always wanted. I’m a few steps away from a real home of my own and I thought a vehicle was a big deal. My companies recently expended operating out of the east coast as well as the mid west and there are a ton of others who really, really want to be me right now.
I missed every career day during high school and I purposely fucked up my middle school career evaluation test and somehow I ended right here anyway. I think I’m going to stop fighting and just go with it for a change. Seriously a job can only kill you a little and even then it only damages the soul…