I guess my whole life is been over shooting. I'm so confused by life and I can't tell if it's a lack of tools or if I'm just a spoiled brat. I want to hug myself with self-love and kick my own ass. I went all the way to Jerusalem hoping God would speak to me and tell me what to do with my life. Instead I got tahini. Flash to me tomorrow and I'm humming on the porch chanting out a gratitude list. Craziness. But we have to do that, get up every day and try hard. One day I don't know how I will carry-on , and the next I'm saying how cute is a cactus in a teacup. Ps. Really cute.
We get caught opening up for two seconds before we slam open the door of emotions. Before we get found out. The truth is we are all the same just different shapes. See I got all Pollyanna because I like to be lied. I mean liked. Mostly I want to be inspired or inspirational.
This is about the time in life I wish I were rich because at least then being sad is boring. When you're poor people box you in as crazy. I wish a crazy person murdered all the words crazy. So no one could use it. Even if you are crazy you shouldn't call another person crazy.
Cell phones have taken my ability to spell, no that's not true Elementary school did that. I felt so relieved when I read that not all smart people can spell. I feel like sometimes, no all the time rereading my journals or looking through my old pictures on Instagram is like smelling your own farts; it's gross. And self-indulgent. BRB going to reread this. Yeah my thoughts run together and I'm kind of cruel but getting somewhere.
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