Monday, November 1, 2010

I am still waiting for my life to find direction. I am still waiting for the universe to assign me meaning. I find it ludicrous that I am having my midlife crisis at nineteen. And yet everything is screaming at me, "Average, average, average," and I want something to tell me that I'm not.

Perhaps that is selfish of me. The universe has more important things to tend to. I am but a small sketch of a girl, too long of limb and big of heart to be much use to anyone.

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