I’ve been thinking lately that I’m fine now. Oh, no! That’s wrong, maybe going there. But whatever! I just think my world is better at the moment.
Remember the times I’m ranting about my fucking life? About leaving that monster and being on my own? About how to support myself? Well, I’m over it. I found something that could help me get through this. Guess what? I’ve got work now. Oh yeah, writing stuff. Ironic, eh? I’m not a good writer but I earn by writing shit.
Who’d ever thought I’d write about Homecare, senior care, medical stuff and wait for… wait for it… FASHION. For chrissake, I don’t even know how to dress up properly.
But that’s what you call flexibility, or well others call it desperation. Who cares? I’m able to eat twice a day because of that. I am able to go to school and ultimately I can go to my sites for my thesis because of the money I get.
One thing I realized is that, I should have done this a long time ago. I mean, I love my life now. I’m not brilliant at everything but I’m resourceful and I’m hardworking. Oh, well. Sometimes I think it’s out of selfishness because I want to succeed, but isn’t it the point of living? To reach your goal and to be able to taste self actualization? (at least according to Maslow)
As I’ve said before, “Life is a bitch, you must learn how to fuck it” and so here I am throwing myself to the bitch, sticking my tongue down its throat and pumping hard to reach climax. I’m almost done finding my best position. That’s why to other fuckers out there, do your best!
There’s no turning back now.
I’m forgetting all there is to forget.
I’m forgetting her.
I’m moving on.
I’m taking a great leap forward.