Friday, August 3, 2012

To be quite honest,

I am slightly terrified of living.
     I dream of running away at the dead of night on my eighteenth birthday. I wish to travel to the west coast and see for myself if the grass is greener or the ocean cleaner. I want to dine and dash because I ran out of money. I want to work on a farm. I want my hands to get rough with labor. I want to fall in love and get hurt. I want to have children and return home full of regret for falling in love with a married man. I want to raise my children and teach them to be brilliant, free thinking, thrill seekers. I want to raise them to be everything I was always to scared to be.
     I want them, to be nothing like me because I'll always be to afraid live.

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