It is implausible to think that I will not always be stressed, will ever escape my own neuroses and make it out of the labyrinthine mold that has made me fit to the expectations this world—but i refuse to not try, to not live. There’s a part of myself that rejects the job security and mortgages and cradles…and feigns the roads less traveled, the experiences, and the adventures.
Is it crazy to fathom that one would leave all they’ve built…the challenges overcome, the success, the accomplishments….just to start over again?…to have a dozen new lives in the span of each standard deviation…to not know what tomorrow will bring? Sounds crazy, I know. But security is not sacred to me. And I only want laugh lines…never crows’ feet.