Dear Cookie Monster,
Thank you for reminding me that I’m old. I mean that in a good way.
I forget how old I am sometimes because of how many years I’ve lost.
I think that’s why I think I’m still you sometimes even though I was you so long ago.
The number of years are starting to pile up, but it still feels like some stuff only happened a few months ago.
I’m just tired. And time is sliding by.
There are so many things I want to do, but I’m always stuck in cement. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here.
I want people. And color. And clothes that fit.
I want a life that means something. I want to be brave and strong and do everything I ever dreamed of.
Even the little things like doing laundry seem like an ordeal. How am I going to do other stuff?
I think once I get the ball rolling and have a place to go everyday, that will give me some inertia to pick the pieces back up.
I need to be in a rat park rather than a rat cage. A bunch of big bright bouncy balls would make things so much better. They put out a bunch of those on the lawn during finals week, that was really fun.
I’m not making any sense anymore. Time for bed.
What’s your equivalent of a big colorful bouncy ball that makes everything better?