I hear people talking quite a bit about how they are downtrodden and they will never be able to enjoy the privilege of some other group, and in my mind I am screaming “IF YOU HAD LIVED MY LIFE FOR 22 YEARS YOU WOULD LOVE WHERE YOU ARE NOW!” But I keep quiet because no one would listen.

When did we become such spoiled little entitled whiny bitches?  If you want your station in life to improve then improve it!  We are so quick to spout off excuse after excuse after excuse as to why we can’t.  And I will openly admit, I spent years making excuses why I couldn’t leave the Grunge, so I just endured his torture and torment.  When I was FINALLY convinced that I had the power to improve my station in life, I got out and am working toward making my life better.  No, I may never have an expensive car, expensive clothes, expensive place to live, but I will have what I need.

Freedom, to me, means living without making excuses.  If I fuck up, admit it, take the consequences, and move on.  If I want something, I save my money to get it or learn to make it myself (btw, you do NOT want me to invite you to dinner.  My cooking SUCKS!).

I am of Asian/Hispanic/Questionable heritage.  I don’t look at skin color or accent or hair color, or body type.  I don’t really care what the outside looks like.  Are you a good and gentle person?  Are you kind?  Are you caring?  Do we have common interests?  Do we enjoy each others’ company? And trust me, I can pick up on the stench of bullshit!

We spend so much time complaining and whining and moaning and groaning, instead of caring and making a difference that we have lost focus of the freedom of life!

I actually bought a bra on Saturday, much to my surprise, they had one for the flat of chest.  I wore it Sunday and half of Monday.  It felt like I was wearing a bullet proof vest, so during lunch break, I went to the roof as I normally do, and sure enough the googly eyed red haired guy was across the alley working on his computer.  We have developed a rather “long distance” relationship, when I come up for lunch, he looks at me through his window, smiles and waves.  When I stood on the ledge and took off my bra and let it fall into the alley, I think his imagination must have had a meltdown.  His face hit the window hard enough for his glasses to break.  But I felt free!

Free from confinement.  Free to just be!



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