Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Writing for me

Life is in a funny spot.  Poker is on the fence and where most of my colleagues have moved on to delve into the next chapter in their lives', I am left in the dust grabbing at the final few dollars falling out of the poker sky.  I've always felt partially bitter and spiteful towards the world for never being pursued for my talents.  If only one person had reached out to tap into my potential I would have fallen into step and blossomed where ever I was needed.  My whole life feels on the fence.  I don't know if I should be work on my relationship and getting married and starting a family or if I should just run into the woods and makes sculptures in a cave for a few years.  I've always teetered between my following impulses while at the same time being completely rational and contemplative over life's tough decisions.  Writers write.  My left brain is a little over swollen these days.  It's quantitative pressure is squashing some of my more important emotional connections.  Some people just weren't meant for this world.  Some minds weren't meant for a body.

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