Just coming off of a high from my trip last week, and spent my entire day yesterday unpacking, cleaning and pulling a million pieces of a disintegrated contact lens out of my eye (ouch!) While I was staring in the mirror trying not to lose my shit because my eyeball was on fire, I realized something…
I’M NOT LIVING MY LIFE THE WAY I WANT TO!
WTF am I doing? Life is too short to live unhappily, and to live somewhere you hate, and to not be around the people you love, adore and make you so fucking happy that it should be illegal! Yes, I am making moves to get the fuck out of this hellhole I call a hometown, but I’m not doing it fast enough. I look around my apartment and all I see is shit I do not need. I have a walk-in closet so filled with clothes and shoes that it is literally overflowing and spilling out onto the floor in my bedroom. My dresser is so packed with shit, that the drawers don’t even close any more, I have bookshelves filled with books I’ve already read and have no use for, I have a bathroom filled with make-up, hair products, skin products, curling irons, hair dryers, hair coloring tools, brushes, nail polish, soaps, etc, etc. A garage filled with more clothes and shoes and furniture and work out equipment I do not use because I belong to a gym that I pay an ungodly amount of money for every month! GAH!
All of this shit is weighing me down, man. I need to TRASH IT ALL, pack a suitcase or two, get in my fucking car and just GO. We work to pay bills, and buy ourselves a bunch of meaningless shit, and spend most of our days not smiling due to stress from work, life, bills, debt, bullshit. What is the point? I think I am having an existential crisis.
True happiness is so fucking fleeting, and when you find it, in any form you need to hang onto it, fight for it, chase it and do everything you can to just be happy! Life is short. Before I know it, I will be too old, or dead, or sick, or whatever. It’s like skating. I strap on skates and I am the happiest person in the world. I’m burning massive amounts of calories, making my legs and muscles stronger, which releases endorphins, which makes us happy, which makes us healthy. Yet, I injure myself and I can’t skate so I just don’t. Really? I’m not a quitter, so again WTF am I doing? I decided this weekend that I need to find something new to occupy my time, a few new things, actually.
Rather than skating, I will run. A lot.
I am going to take up boxing. Yes, boxing. A great way to release my anger, frustration and stress. What is better than punching someone in the face? C’mon!
I’m starting burlesque and fire-eating training in June. Fuck it.
I’m taking a stand up comedy class, because I know I can rock that shit.
I am getting rid of all of this material bullshit, and donating it to charity. Let someone else enjoy my 700 pairs of heels. I don’t need so fucking MANY, although they are quite gorgeous.
I am going to workout until my body collapses from sheer exhaustion, and make this little body of mine so tight, and so muscular that you couldn’t knock me down if you tried.
In short, I do not have time for wallowing, depression, playing woe is me because I’m not currently in an ideal situation. I will get what I want, I will be happier, I will live where I want to be… you know why?
BECAUSE I’M NOT A FUCKING QUITTER.
That’s why…
And that’s all I have to say about that!
dimentra dot com 