Milk, cheese and cat food

Another week down.   I went to Walmart after class to pick up a handful of things.   I was wearing my uniform from class,  I walked like the dead.   Brain dead after sociology.   I realized that most of everything I thought I knew of what I think I need in my life is extremely trivial and temperamental.

I want happiness, but it’s only in the things that I choose to love.  Food.   I choose to love food and feeding people.   I choose to love my cat, even though she destroys nice things.   I want peace, but only when I feel like I can breathe on a day of no obligations.   I haven’t had one of those days.   I am always somewhere doing something.  I want acceptance, but only on my terms that I have be alone in my own skin and mind.  I want to feel love..  but all I feel is just rejection.  Every.. day,  I wake up, open my eyes and listen to my first alert breath of each day.

I stand in line waiting.   My eyes catch the tabloids as follows:  “Angelina’s secret life”,  “Hillary the Russian Spy”,  “Time; WW2” and “Trumps war on dictators”.

Send me.  Send me to fight for something good.  Let me feel something other than internal pain.  I don’t want to come back.  I volunteer.

But I am just here for Milk, cheese and cat food.

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