AnonymousCharles

I think a lot about how the universe fucks with us. Give you some meaning, rip it away, give it back, dangle the possibility of losing it all so you can't enjoy it while you have it, take it again. You know those weird weeks where someone you love disappears from your life and you change jobs and your dog dies and you just stare deeply into a wall and think, "What else?" And instantly regret asking because you don't want the universe to take it as a dare? One of those weeks happens every decade. Sometimes twice. And you think maybe if you were nicer to that weird kid in the 4th grade or you never stole that pack of gum or you stopped getting drunk for just 5 extra days so you could feel a fucking thing, that maybe then you could have slid under the radar and been left alone, content. But you know... you know what everyone else doesn't... you aren't perfect, you aren't put together, you aren't confident. You just pretend so damn good that sometimes even you believe it. You curate a