Sunday, September 27, 2020

Can't Find My Rose-Colored Glasses

 



"Every ending is a beginning."

 Every time some hack types that, it's a new beginning. We're all just holding mirrors up to mirrors, aren't we? I seem to have run out of beginnings. Endings, too, for the most part. I was just sitting around waiting for an end to the pandemic or my life, whichever came first, until I realized I'm younger than both of those old white guys running for president. Well, one white and one more an apricot/tangerine, to be precise.

Somehow I seem to have avoided almost everything that scared me growing up. By growing up, I mean everything that happened to me up until yesterday. Yesterday at about 2:00 pm, again, to be precise.

Every heartbreak in my diary is loss.






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