The days seem never-ending and the nights seem so fleeting. I think I watched 2.5 episodes of Rizzoli and Isles, did some work, took out some trash, and did some Sudoku.
What I really meant to do was.. watch an episode or two or Rizzoli and Isles, do some yoga or read a book, do devotions, and go to sleep early.
But here I am. 1220am. Letting Hulu lapse into the next episode of Rizzoli and Isles while mini-ranting on WordPress. Head muddled with way too much murkiness of my life. Living with family is always nice. We used to always live with family. We had a.. posse, if you will. We had a neighborhood we could fall back on. A community related by blood. But with our independence and our need to prove ourselves and find ourselves, family seems to be just a hindrance. How can we find out who we truly are and what we are capable of when we are constantly reminded of our past? Especially if that past does not hold the fondest of memories. Not the worst, just.. not the fondest.
Am I destined to repeat my parents’ lives? I would really rather not. But how can I break away from it when I am constantly immersed in it?
We really need to move out on our own.