Breathe

So, if you’ve read close to the edge you know I had a pretty rough morning today. It’s like that sometimes, that’s why I smoke a little marijuana time and again. No, I’m not high right now. I kinda wish I was. But anyway. Here’s the deal, it makes it easier to go through the rough times, the bad days and the insomniac nights. In truth, the only bad thing about how my life is is that it feels like I’m slowing down. I hurt sometimes, a lot of times. But everybody does. I have too many good things coming my way, just not fast enough. Romans 5:3–5 must be the verse ringing at the back of my mind. About pain producing character. A while ago, months maybe? A year or two ago, I felt entitled to a lot of things. I think I still do. I like to be in control. I guess it took me a while to realise that true control of yourself would mean not having to be in control of anyone else. And honestly, I’m still struggling with that one.

My point is, it’s been 3 hours since I was ready to jump off a bridge, but now I’m back to normal. A little sad perhaps, but I’m watching a sad movie, and you know how empaths are. Some of these things I will never be able to escape, not even when I’m sleeping naked in 1000 thread count sheets. And yes, I’m that kind of girl. A queen, slowly deserving my crown, because the thing about easy come, is easy go.

Anyway, so, we are a lost generation bound by societal annotations. Those of us who have rebellion pumping in our DNA have it harder, because everything from everyone comes with strings attached. I however, am glad that I am a rebel, because even drowning in my pain, I am living my own damn life, making my own fucking choices, and everybody knows it. So, bad days? Sure. Lots. But I really am a wuss, and the things that get to me are teeeeenyyy. Not that they hurt any less. But I have the kind of problems that could very easily be solved, or simply ignored. Maybe tomorrow I will have a better day, and maybe not. But all I got to do is breathe.