Probably not, which is why I'm going to tell you.
*sticks tongue out*
I think that life just keeps getting more and more confusing as the days pass, and yet I can't help but love it anyway, and that both satisfies me and pisses me off.
I mean, honestly. Everything just gets harder. There's no easy way out, there's no get-outta-jail-free card, no passing GO and collecting your two hundred smackers.
Pardon the cliches, but I haven't been to sleep in over 24 hours now.
To continue, though. I'm awfully glad that I'm a Christian, and that I have my faith to fall back on. As well as my loved ones and frequently changing obsessions. Because really, if I didn't have those certain stable areas, I'd probably not be here.
I don't know. It just makes me wonder. Because we go through our entire lives knowing that it only gets harder. Every step is a preparation for the next level. For every inch gained there's two lost. Except, of course, when you're dealing with inches around the tummy...
What's at the end? Not after death, I already said I'm a Christian, so I believe I'll be chillin with Christ. But what's at the end of LIFE? What happens when you've done all you can, when you've either met all the challenges or given up hope? I don't want to end up in some old folks home, complaining about the lack of cinnamon in my applesauce.
Nope.
That's why I've decided. If I outlive Joel, I'll be going senile. My best friend Shelly and I decided. We'll go wild and crazy in our old age together. That way even if our lives end up sucking, we'll believe in our messed up minds that it was the biggest freakin party of... well, of our lives.
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