red.
Here's the thing, I feel as though I'm running out of time. Time to make decisions. Time to make plans. Time to not make plans. Time to figure out what the fuck I'm doing with my life, when it is seemingly so very very, disgustingly easy. Perhaps thats my problem. The simplicity makes me uncomfortable. Nay, nauseous.
Did I dig myself into a child-sized hole?
Doomed to play school house for eternity and ever more?
Should I start collecting my holiday themed, bedazzled bejeweled, one of a kind because your mom hand sewed the sequins, sweaters now?
Did someone trick me into thinking this overpriced, over-catholic education was all for such a worthy cause?
Did I miss my boat and end up stranded on the wrong side of the ocean?
Did I forget how much I wanted to sing the blues, smoke cigarettes on stage and drink gin out of wine glasses, full to the brim?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Maybe I'll just wait.
Maybe I'm just grumpy because it won't stop fucking raining.