Some workdays I feel happy at the end of the day that I 1.) earned an honest buck, 2.) enjoyed 7.5 hours with amazing women and 3.) got to show off my mad legal skills.
Some workdays I find myself in a curled ball and a tight knot in my chest wanting to just get my library degree so I can finally get out of this legal hell hole. Or become a full time student who traffics body/cocaine/people to pay for the bills. Ah, but then that means I will go to jail. Prefer not to.
There are times when I find myself letting go of the worries/frets/concerns and just letting it float, float, float into the outer space. Finally relaxing and becoming one with the feeling of that intangible being called happiness.
Then I remember that it can be taken away just like that and I am afraid I become one, instead, with the worries/frets/concerns.
I build a wall around my heart because it has been torn a little. Broken in little bits, then put together by cheap-ass glue. Then broken again, again, again. With every promise comes the let down walls then the quick retrieval up because the promises became empty words. I am scared this will happen again.
So although I feel so safe. Secure. Happy with this moment and time and place. I can not break the wall. I can not let it fall again to then reconstruct it with each tear. Not until the promise becomes solid words. Solid phrases, sentences, paragraphs.
I'll just enjoy the ride while it lasts.
The travails and gallavantings of an Asian queer lady who loves to read, write, and create havoc.
