Leaving New York

And whilst I was working out this morning after the 3-day weekend, I was concentrating. Concentrating on becoming. By becoming I mean leaving this shell of who I was surrounded by parents and others I had to please thinking that I could not survive on my own.

I hate that feeling.

I've had it most of my lie (life) that nothing was ever good enough. And even when I made everything my own it was never good enough.

And so I had a vision of myself during the refrain of "Wake Up" by Rage. It was of a small boy with dark hair and a bowl cut slumped on the floor with two crutchs and nothing was wrong with him. So I walked over to him and picked him up by the shoulders and said, "You're worth it. Get. Up."

He was so lifeless that it scared me. He just looked me and his emptiness wass endless. It was so sad to think that tihs was myself. I have come, so, far. I don't want this to be me. I want to stand up without those frickin' sticks beside me. I want to fall and get up and fall and get up and push myself.

So I pushed myself and repeated over and over that I was worth it and that I should fight for what I am worth and what I love and what I want to be in this life. Before it's over.


I'm going to be late for work. I have to go argue with a company about what they are paying me b/c they "made a mistake". Meanwhile people in New Orleans are homeless and others in central New York can't make their bills. This is the wrong ending that doesn't feel exactly write (right). But you've already read it and there is nothing to be done right now or ever after about this sentence. Maybe the next one will have better grammar and better spelling and win an award for best sentence in a life.

Now smile.