Sometimes life is like a book you're forced to read. Even when you want to close it, some invisible hand is there to keep it open; making you read every unsatisfying and empty sentance. But maybe life handed you a different book.
I suppose we all get different books.
This may seem like I'm blaming the universe for all my problems. But I'm not.
I'm really only blaming God.
I could sit here and ask God "Why me?", but I won't.
I'm tired of that question.
All I really want out of life right now is my own way.
Selfish me.
Shameful me.
Get over it.
And so will I.