From that first breath to the last it’s the middle that can throw a person for a loop. Forget the light at the end of the tunnel for wicks dim in the struggle to crawl with bloody fingernails, clawing, clipping, cultivating fortitudes of ethereal dreams that might never delight and culminate into a facade that even you won’t see until it blind sights you.
Go ahead and obtain a license to perform manicures or be a mechanic. You know that’s less complicated. You know that’s what you want–just do it. No college loans, no GPA stress. We ‘re all headed in the same direction, arrive with your eyes focused on the torch at the end of the tunnel, with your sanity intact, even if it’s time to cross into the hereafter. We’re all headed there; you know.
