Unlimited rehearsals.
Persistent patterns. Learning lines. Practising performance. Time after time.
That’s what my life’s all about.
The same melodramatic mess, year after year.
I’m still waiting for the final scene.
I don’t have stage fright.
But I think my time for the spotlight hasn’t yet arrived.
All I need to do is wait.
And get used to the stares, the glares, the stings, the backstabs, the damage and the damage control.
I am going strong. Though the perseverance does swing a bit. Blame it all on PMS. That’s all.
Dear Tiring Torpid Twenties,
I am fed up.
Move fast.
And let me be.
Lotsa love,
J
posted by J @ 6:13 pm
Comments: 6
6 Comments:
LOL :)
Is it all rant or just angst?
ass (shud i b flattering enuf to it call urs? )on the background pic is very distracting. cant concentrate on the post! anyway, happy birthday! twenties will pass soon. and u KNOW with them u will too.
yeah rite! when i scroll, my eyes being being glued to the background subconsciously, fail to move along with the text..
Tiring torpid twenties
Oh yeah, nothing like the groovy, swinging thirties when half a beer gives you wild hallucinations :)
Happy b'day? When? am i missin somethin?
hmmm gud 1....i agree...especially...wen u waitin 4 ur turn n ppl give u a pep talk...damn it...
Post a Comment
<< Home