I liked "The Wasteland"

300 words a day entry sixteen

 

My skin has grown thicker, I thought, this year, able to take more, symbolically at any rate, don’t fall victim to unnecessary tears, care less about what she or he or they think or say. I play politics with scheming would-be Machiavellians and bide my time, quietly, usually I’m not even giving a shit which is probably unsettling to those people but I don’t care to make them comfortable. I used to care to make my enemies comfortable, now I go about my day, hurried, rushing from one thing to the next, trying to be happy, well-rested, eat well, exercise, don’t smoke and don’t do drugs and never go out to party. I’m a good girl, even though I approach 34, I finally got the hang of being a good girl. Takes some of us longer, I have excuses as long as my arms, I’m not trying to prove anything, I’m too old to prove anything, I just look for the connections now, try to understand how it all fits together, the jagged pieces of my life, how they have been washed over by the surf, heated by the sun and put through the fires of life, how smooth they have become, if only you knew me before I would cut you, now you may think I’m something to take home and to keep, cherish like a little souvenir, that would be fine with me, but I can still break easily. I have been through all; death, divorce and moving, I’ve murdered secret parts of me that only doctors could see. I lay it out there, I look to fall in love, I’m not afraid of dying, I look to the sky, the clouds in October are always layered, this is my favorite month when the veil is thin, when the leaves are on fire and bloody and the promise of a long winter, and on the other side if I make it, rain.

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