I’ve decided I’m going to do life for me. I’m going to congratulate myself for doing life. I’m going to be selfish, kind, mean, lovely, sad, and I’m going to fuck up, but I deserve that extra brownie. I deserve to drink another chunk-free smoothie at Robeks because life is hard, and I’m doing it. I deserve to feel serenity and joy, even when others don’t approve of me or if I make a mistake.
I’m going to go to school and become more independent and be free, I’m just going to get it done my way in whatever way I am at the time. If I really can’t do it now, I’ll do it after. There’s no limit on the emotions of future nows, but I’ll do it after it ends or lessens enough. I’m going to live my own way, and feel my way through. Sometimes I’ll walk barefoot in gravel, that’s ok, I’ll just sit down in between steps or crawls. Sometimes I’ll run.
Nothing in this life is infinite, I have to remember. I’m just a brain and veins and cells and toes and oxygen. I’m natural and I’m just one in six billion and I’m trivial but I’m so happy for that.
Putting Pain to Paper 