Curls

It's like being replaced, but when the wire is broken and the numbers won't punch in–it'll be like you never knew they were gone. UNTRUE! but she was pretty, I guess. not conventionally, at least. the curls were soft, but the static was out of control. but it's not like you can say anything, because, like, individuality and stuff. but it was nice that she tried. she tried to show it. she tried. but being replaced is hard, and no one should have to eat carrots alone.

O'Keefe

There are no rules–there is no point. WE made the rules so there would be a point. You feel loved, but it's not. It's not. No way. It's not.
I saw you in a dream...it wasn't a dream, was it.
Maybe I imagined you–like a water colour painting, so beautiful created. The lines and strokes, so perfect; so genius.
but even that isn't true. what lies I created in my head to hide. to find. to invoke. BUT WHY? To hide? To hide from what? To laugh? To cry? Already did those. check check and check. maybe it wasn't a good idea–maybe it was the best idea. I like it. I like you.

LIFE?

I don't know what to call you, post. Maybe it's called Life, because I hate it, too. Whatever. I was reading the newest post from the Hyperbole and A Half blog (Ya know, the ALL THE THINGS cartoon). Ya, well, pretty funny...also, too real. The author has a segment about her depression, and how life can sometimes feel like it is hopeless bullshit. "what if...the entire future," the comic begins, "is full of only horrible, boring things?" "That would be too many," she decides.

But I guess that's where I am struggling. I am seeking to find meaning in my work, writing, and other various activities to little or no avail. And, I mean, the only comfort I can find after a long day of being yelled at, is my bed. And maybe parks and rec.

But then I see other people doing so well. Being happy and enjoying life. I wonder if my life will ever be like that.

Someone I love dearly–just recently, actually–said to me that people had to be the reason for life...the reason we're alive. It just blew my mind. Here I am, trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life. Why I can't make a million dollars?! or write a damn article worth reading! Or even get one damn upvote on Reddit. But it's not about me. It's about other people. I love so many people. And I hurt a lot of people. I wish I didn't. I'm struggling today. And all this week, actually. Well, stay tuned. Maybe I'll figure something else out real soon. :)

Thursday

....the woman reached through the gate and threw her a one dollar bill.
the bill was wrinkled up, as though it had been through more pockets than its worth.
"Thanks," the girl said, in a calm manner and gave the woman a rare smile.
The woman looked at the girl, and smiled back.
"What's your favourite colour?"
The girl smiled and slowly pointed at the bright sunflower in her hair.
"Yellow!" She said.