Life is funny. And twisted. It isn’t a comedy anymore. It isn’t serious either. But then again, I’m twisted.
I’m a woman. I’m a girl; I’m actually stuck in between. I procrastinate, I am on time always. I procrastinate time. I am complex, I want to be, I try.
Life’s tough as you get older. You are not who you wanted to be. You make it what you want it to be, or close enough. I am confused. So are you.
The last couple of days have got me thinking. I am better and stronger, yet moments make me weak. Abandon. But then again, I’d like to be my usually bitch self and rant! But that would be expected, wouldn’t it? I don’t want to be “expected”.
Also, I love this weather. Although the umbrellas don’t save me from shit-faced truck drivers who seem to think it their right to splash water, all over my fucking pants, encouraging sniggers. Not from me.
I love the opportunity to drink “chai” in the rain. But the asses that stare at my cleavage aren’t welcome. Fuck you, dick weed, it’s not even exposed and do you even think you can score, with that face of yours? Jayalalitha has a better chance at the cracks in her feet than your face!
Also, moron in the red swift on link road, seriously, I mean seriously, you aren’t driving the Bat mobile you know? You’re car isn’t as small as your dick or brain (for that matter) to squirm through a 4 inch gap! Get a life and GET OF THE PHONE!
The weather. Gah! I can’t talk about it anymore.
Talking to a few friends over the days, I realized one thing. I am selfish. I want what I want. Sue me, Bitch!
I am not afraid to get it. I am afraid, however of loneliness. It scares the beeejeezus outta me. Not comforting.
However, I do have time. I don’t follow rules. I break them. I make them. I am a rule. I am my own judge. I judge me. I have the right. I don’t judge you. I am a bad judge of character.
I have my dreams, intact. I know how to get there. This hurdle race annoys me. Get the FUCK out of my way. I will achieve it. I will cross.
Friends understand. They know. I don’t. I will be who I want to be. I am like this. I smile. I fret. I jump, I fall. I am me.
And fuck me Freddie, slap me purple and call me a child, (insert any other expletive here) but I’ve suddenly realized the meaning of life. But then again, who hasn’t. Join the dumb-fuck club, you tool.