Lately I've been carrying with me feelings of disease and disillusion, so much so that I'm constantly reshaping my views on the world, on myself, my relationships, my ambitions, my values. I thought I'd already been through this before. Wasn't that post-high school "coming out of your shell" experience surely past? Haven't I already grasped who I am as an individual? Don't I know what I want already?
Apparently, not.
Shouldn't I want stability? Is it so bad to want to be comfortable? Considering my past, I would think these things essential. And I thought I had achieved this state, but what kind of achievement is this anyway? One of settlement and dashed dreams? One of a predilection to loss? There is something to be said for comfort: I enjoy the comfortable autumn weather, eating macaroni and cheese, wearing flip-flops, getting a good night's rest. But what about the heat of summer? Stinging sun and sweat-strewn bodies, exhilaration and rejuvenation. And how about linguine in a cheesy cream sauce with shrimp and scallops and seasonings and such and Mmmmm. And I like wearing high heels. Sometimes. If they are black and shiny with pretty studded rhinestones on the side. But most of all, staying up all night, drinking, dancing, laughing, snacking, conversing, chilling, then looking out at the twilight sky, the responsibilities of the day on the horizon, the thrill of the night still fresh amongst hazy atmosphere.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. And I'm not sure what I'm doing at all (insert chuckle). But maybe this is just me.
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