Sweet Sweet America
I wish I could tell you that life gets easier once you turn the age of 21 and for some people it does.
For some people life is really really amazing up until this point and I know what you’re thinking…
You’re still young.
If you settle in the blues now you’re just gonna become one of those Debbie downers who suck the fun out of everything every chance you get and you’ll waste your 20s in the gutter.
Poor lonely girl who didn’t do anything with her life, because she was too afraid. A whole hardly weakling in the flesh.
Even if so, for me personally, life doesn’t get any easier just tolerable . It’s the suck that kept on sucking. A rigged system completely.
At the age of 21 I’m already motherless, with a sick father, a dying career, too good of a relationship, broke to no return, with a spirit for a best friend.
Like I’m in one of those sick sitcoms where the character life is already bad from the beginning and it never gets progressively better just more bad.
But the good kind of bad that develops the person into who they’re meant to be.
Which is more than likely a villain.
Bad things happen to you= Make bad things happen to the world. (Some peoples very own displeasing mantra.) We don’t first start out by making bad decisions we just learn to grow into doing it.
We can not sit by the campfire tonight. The heat on our bodies, everyone having a good time because no one seems to care about tomorrow.
I didn’t come here to be that annoying girl who wants to tell you the terrors of living as me (average life) or to force my share of opinions on the faulty wiring of I guess everything. By all means you can back out of this post now.
I brought you here today to inform you of north and how I have nothing going for me in life and I’m still fine.
The person who made it a little bit easier to tolerate life.
North, a terrible specimen of what could potentially be a human being, but thankfully isn’t…