Sometimes I can’t believe my life. Everything about it. the person I am and how I got here and the situations I find myself in. When did I grow up? When did I mature and become so calm, comfortable, and accepting of the present?
Details are details and they’re not important right now, but sometimes I can’t believe my life. Circumstances arise and I blink and then there’s a new circumstance in its place. Everything moves so fast. and I just keep aging. Then again, I don’t mind if I am because despite everything, I feel a sense of contentment. Things are. They just…are. I don’t need to use adjectives to explain myself. I am, things are, and life is. That’s it.
