Making Babies #NewAdult

~One~

Here's is the thing, I, as a "writer" want people to understand about my "work". I want my work to create dialogue among people reading. I want it to shock you enough for you to think it through rationally, before having your views on what's happening. That's my goal. To create healthy dialogue and understanding that we have our own point of view. This is what I'm trying to do here by creating these characters and writing these stories. It is very uncomfortable, but the world is so diverse that what is OKAY here, might not be somewhere else.

Lol, that's it for now. I'll pop in again if anything else needs to be said. I always reply to educated and open minded comments.
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         To me, there are two different sort of people in life: Those who get knock down and quickly get up to seek revenge; and those who stay down and hide away to lick their wounds until they can get up again.

        I was definitely the latter, and in a way, that's who I've always been. A lover, never a fighter. Though calling myself a lover would be a stretch these days.

       I'm a pretty good person, or at least I mostly see myself as one. My mother used to make our whole family go to church on Sundays. She often emphasized on how important it was for my sister and I to be 'good young girls' and 'outstanding persons of society'. Her words, not mine.

       But, whether or not the fact that we used to volunteer at soup kitchens and visited elderly people in assisted living was all for show because my dad was the mayor of our town, or because this family sinned so much that we needed what little good came from church; the point is, I was raised to be good, and good I think I am. Afterall, we needed our family to be perfect in the eyes of society so we could blind them enough from seeing whatever ugly thing we were hiding away.

       All to say--evidently avoiding talking about my family for much longer than necessary-- No, I wasn't mother Theresa, but I was far better than too many people in this world. Too many that I knew.

       Which was why I was finding it hard to understand why my life was so freaking shitty. Yes, I understood that I live in a first world country, have a wealthy family and that there are people who have it way worse.

         Regardless, knowing this did not negate the fact that i've had shitty cards handed to me, and so far, it hadn't stopped. Plus, there were many reasons why I had lost contact with my family and never reached out.

       What lies in the dark should stay in the dark. When it came to my family, this part should forever stay in the dark. Too many things happened.

       Way too many.

        So I often wondered, how much of a good person I needed to be for things to start going my way. Because, after all I had to endure in my twenty two years of existence, I deserved a break at some point.

        When my best friend Billie told me she had put my name down to be interviewed at the publishing company of my dreams, having found out through a friend of hers that they were having an open interview day, I jumped excitedly at the opportunity. I felt like that was it. This was my time, I had long suffered, I had paid my dues and now I would get to relax; finally getting a job and learning to be happy again.