They don't have to be clouds but they are.
I don't have to be me but I am.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
happy birthday to me
A desperate plea – masquerading as a simple sentence – weighs heavy in my book of words:
"I hope my life gets fixed before my 35th birthday."
...
As a person desperately in love with words, it kills me to say that they fail me now. I don't want to sound like a fucking cliche. I want the words to do justice but life has finally stumped me into tongue-tied-ness.
...
That whole life fixing thing didn't at all comply with my self-imposed deadline. But I'm sitting here just one year later – on the precipice of 36 [!] – and I can safely say it: Life got fixed.
Only not how I imagined it.
Like a thousand times better than what I wished for in my version of "fixed."
...
It's hard to know how broken things really are when you don't even have a concept of what un-broken is.
I don't think I ever knew what real happiness felt like. But I do now.
And I am: Happy.
"I hope my life gets fixed before my 35th birthday."
...
As a person desperately in love with words, it kills me to say that they fail me now. I don't want to sound like a fucking cliche. I want the words to do justice but life has finally stumped me into tongue-tied-ness.
...
That whole life fixing thing didn't at all comply with my self-imposed deadline. But I'm sitting here just one year later – on the precipice of 36 [!] – and I can safely say it: Life got fixed.
Only not how I imagined it.
Like a thousand times better than what I wished for in my version of "fixed."
...
It's hard to know how broken things really are when you don't even have a concept of what un-broken is.
I don't think I ever knew what real happiness felt like. But I do now.
And I am: Happy.
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