Is like a blank canvas. We’ve all heard that before, correct. What you do in your life effects the final outcome, blahh blahh blahh. You sit on you’re ass, in the long run, where or what will that get you? OHH I KNOW, a flat saggy ass. Then no one will want you then you WILL be lonely and cry and get hooked on anti-depressants then become one of the million Americans with a drug addiction and then OD and boo fucken hoo. ORR you can be one of those pretty girls, who always have the beautiful boyfriend that every fat chick w/ glasses has as their desktop background. You’re end up being the girl who gets married right after high school then gets divorced before you’re 26 then you find out your pregnant. So then you’re a MILF and all the college boys want you and you kids then turns to drugs cause he can’t handle mommy as whore. What if that’s how your life is painted? Anabstract painting of dark blues, blacks and browns, but to show the highlights of your life you mix in a few pinks and whites… That’s it. A mess. Then the paint starts to peel. You smudged an area before it was dry, tried to pick off the piece but it took more paint with it and you kept peeling all the paint off, hoping and praying it would stop, for if it didn’t, all your life’s accomplishments and sorrow would be lost, erased. it didn’t stop. there you are again with a blank canvas. Now here is the question, Do you look at it as an opportunity to start over or as your life completely ruined and lost with the fear of being forgotten?
rebecca in SW▲Gland
month
