And I've Got to be Free...
After flying through life for the past couple of years, I have hit a wall popularly known as quarter life. Rather than make a smooth turn round this cornerstone, I am trudging through each day at the pace of a hungover snail in wet concrete. I can't smell the roses, only the stench of the dog poop under the rose bush. I want to be freeeeee...like the twirling gucci-clad in an insect-free open field kind of freedom.
1 comment:
"hungover snail on wet concrete" i love it. trrruussst we've all gone through it. all i can say is it passes. and when you hit 27 its pretty badass.
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