accept the things you can’t control

I’ve spend countless weekends down the walk of bars.. feeling the thick smog of expectations in the air, carrying myself between the people and their motives. It’s all the same. Every time. The constant loop of disappointment. The expectation that “it’ll be different this time”, while finding myself tucked into bed at 4am with nothing else to describe the night besides mediocre.

I picked up another job. I watched as my friends danced and laughed without me while I slummed the aisles and tables of this servant’s playground. When I’m not there, I’m still trapped inside my own mind. Instant entertainment is realistically the burden at my finger tips. Within seconds of scrolling, I’ve been exposed to the 3% of women in the world who just so happen to be models, covering every square inch of social media.

I’ve been conditioned to feel as though, if I don’t experience enough life at my age, I’ll forever be consumed with regret. Surrounding myself with older people that envy my age makes me feel more rushed to live my life. Their fears in aging etch terror into my future being. Hearing their moans of insecurity, their stories and travels.. When will it be my turn? Shouldn’t it be now? What in the goddamn heck am I doing then?

Time is arbitrary. The experiences I see others living through are their own. Do I want to be there truly for myself? Or am I chasing a laugh I can have any other day? The love of my life I know I’ll meet in a matter of time? A friendship I’ll develop eventually? Or an adventure I can recount in another place? The instant gratification I feel in experiencing life is used to distract myself from the void. I never want to be home. Alone time feels like time wasted.

Yet, there is nothing more I want in life than to feel fulfilled in my craft. How do I master such skill without dedicating the hard work first? Alone time is not necessary a bad thing.

And what sets an experience apart from being good? Was it the attention I got, the love I was given or the feelings I felt? Because I can’t control that.

This last month of summer will be pure education, in every form. A simple chapter read will be the bare minimum. I’ve wasted too much of my life worrying about shit… about how I looked, about how others felt, about my future and the ones I loved and want to love. So fuck itching for my next high. Fuck pouring endless internet muck into the spaces of my brain. Fuck trying so damn hard to have a good time.

I will enjoy this.

My youthfulness will never be dictated by the wrinkles on my body. I will experience this life for me. I have nobody to impress and the rest of my life to live because I am more than okay.

I will enjoy right now.

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