I think the essence of being is such that being doesn’t really make much sense.
I always find myself wondering when good things are going to happen to me,
or when change is finally going to reveal something better.
-- But, I guess, that’s really when life makes the most sense.
It isn’t supposed to get better,
it’s supposed to be yours.
And so, the inconsequential, frozen, time you have right now?
It’s not meant for you to take to place into aimless waiting.
It’s for you to write glitter lines on pages,
to make life out to what you want it to be.
LISA MARIE