Your life is made up of so many elevator rides; so many full moons and half-eaten cups of frozen yogurt and solitary drives in the car.
For your hands are small and there is a limit to what you can do. You have the beauty of your life already in you, it is what pumps your heart.
Your days are numbered as surely as the hairs on your head, and you will one day cry yourself to sleep for the last time, the very last time. Until then you will go on eating Indian food and pretending to like certain television shows and thinking thoughts and fighting or not.
It is your life, and it is not about passion, though that is important; and it is not about adventure, though god knows that's important too. Don't ask what it is about, at least not until you've lived it. Then you may ask, then you will know, but for now, your hands are small.
2 comments:
I love this laura. Did you write it? You can thank emily katz for posting your blog on hers, as I occasionally peruse her blog links.
Also, loved your play by play of the Oscars on facebook :)
thanks melissa! i did write it. i love emily's blog for the links to everyone else's. and glad you liked the oscar play by play. so fun :)
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