Prodigal

Let me feel, I don't care if I break down
Let me fall even if I hit the ground
And if I cry a little, die a little
at least I know I lived, just a little

Listening to that Bethany Joy Lenz song did nothing for my Sunday blues. That's such a cheesy song. It's almost awful because you know it's too emotionally loaded; look at those lines - it's an invitation to have other people see how pathetic you are - in this case, myself. How can anybody appreciate self-pity? How can anyone pretend not to do it once in a while?

I'm 3x years old and I will be free of financial burden by the time I'm 3x , and that is if I work as freaking hard as I have been doing for almost a decade now. The worst part is, I don't think I'm paying for anything other than my dues for being someone who took responsibilities that are way over my head, because nobody else is there to take them. So you see, forgive me for wallowing in self-pity. I do not regret my choices; I will stand up to them and see this through. Just don't expect me to be cheerful in the meantime. Don't expect me to not look tired and intolerant of trivialities.

I knew I should have created a blog about puppies and cotton candies.