(This post will cover about 15 different topics.)
Today is not a good day.
Today is sick. My stomach is sick. The weather here looks as if it has the flu. The atmosphere at my work is dreary and sickly. Everything seems to be sick today. Ergo my conclusion, it is not a good day.
And so the saying goes, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." And while that may be fine for the optimists of the world, today that is not me. Today, I think, should be a lemon day, but instead of lemonade, I would like to make a citrus martini. That is about all of the lemony goodness I can stand right now.
I have been having writer's block for the last 20 or so hours, and I am about to go crazy. There are so many things I want to write about, but for the sake of those who read, I dare not.
How are people supposed to go through life knowing exactly what they want the whole time? I have a friend that does, and it blows my mind. There are so many different possibilities out there, how can someone have one single goal and then full-speed ahead go after it? It really does not make any sense to me.
Now if you are one of those people I am very sorry if I have thrown you for a loop. I do not want to discourage you for pursuing that which I have not achieved yet, even though I would love to know what I really want, I am afraid I will never find it. I am so indecisive, it is kind of nerve-wracking. I always manage to hurt the ones around me, because of my incessant mind changing.
It is all I can do to sit here and blab on and on about what is not really real.
Sitting here typing, that's real.
Thinking, well that is questionable.
Making decisions, that requires thinking, so again...questionable.
But this. Here and now is real. Me sitting at my desk, wanting to get out of this job, this city, and this life. That is really real. I just wish I could make up my mind and pick a lane, choose a path, make a decision, even if it scares the shit out of me, and just freakin do it.
I wanna be like Nike.
That "Help" song by The Beatles is replaying itself in my head.
My dream, if I choose to accept it, is to move to a large town. New York perhaps. Become a writer, get a degree if I so wish, and live my life doing what I want to do. Should I choose to accept it, I must complete it before I fall in love again. Because if not, that will cause self destruction in T-Minus _____ days/months/years.
I have the ability to go "to infinity, and beyond."
But the question is, do I really want to?
The sad part is, only I know. And I don't know.