(W)here’s (T)he (F)rosting?


I’m getting sick and tired of beind sick and tired of my gotdang self. Like so many panes of colored glass yet unpolished; so incredibly opaque that my window is unintelligible. How could anyone appreciate me when I can’t even see the beauty in myself….yet. I’m so rough, so unfinished, so lackluster. I’m so unspeakably unsatisfied in myself that it cripples me. Because I make no progress, I make no progress. I’m literally a walking catch-22… how is that? Someone help. I’m sitting by the mailbox waiting for an invitation to greatness. I’ll wait forever… grow grey and collect dust if I don’t take what is mine. Call MYSELF to arms. I need a good kick in the pants. Btw… I need to look up synonyms for the word multifaceted… pronto!

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