Funny thing this mind that oscillates between "stop whining, just get a job, yes you are a cog and the machine is bleeding to death, just roll over until you die" versus "welp, my life, If I wanna become a documentary film maker or whatever, just try it; yes you are alone, but just undo that. Edit."
But it's not how that works. Not after having to say goodbye to the love of my life for 15 years. But like most things in life, unsustainable.
But it's not how that works. Not after having to say goodbye to the love of my life for 15 years. But like most things in life, unsustainable.
And there's always pointing fingers. But when you close that door for the last time, you feel it, "we are making the right decision". But some days I think I can feel the coral in the garden of branching paths, "welp it's all down hill from here".
I wish I could paint a kind of picture, forgotten in boxes after boxes after boxes of boxed up things. A single fleeting moment of "hey, that happened". And then for a brief moment, smile. With the kind of "sigh, yeah".