True Story.

Life doesn’t happen the way you thought it would, but it’s still beautiful, isn’t it?
Give everything a purpose, give all of life a point. I have to live this way, it’s the
only way I function. I have to write this way, it’s the only way I function. This
isn’t a poem, and maybe it seems a little pretentious or heavy-handed to format
my thoughts this way, but it’s just the way I work, and it’s my blog, so deal with
it. If I want run on sentences and blocky chunks of emotion with serrated edges,
then that’s my deal. Got it? Give everything a purpose, even if Camus was right.
Even if you die and then there’s nothing, no, nada. Give everything a purpose.
Why not make the most of everything you have?  I was recently pulled out of a
terribly treacherous trap by someone four years younger than I.  I allowed myself
to believe that, in its current iteration, my life is 90% waiting.  I was living my
days like they didn’t matter, because essentially they did not matter.  My life was
solely about getting through the day and on to the next one.  I fell into a trap of
waiting for the future.  It’s a beautiful future, and once I get there, I may feel like
this moment right now pails in comparison, but right now can be beautiful too.
And maybe my life right now, in Worcester, Massachusetts, won’t compare at
all to my future, but that’s no reason to live life like I’m treading water. I’m not
going to tread water anymore. This is my life. And I’m going to make the most
of it. Even if that means something completely different every single day.