What is my purpose? I stand here, gazing at the unknown. I sit here, thinking of where I WANT to go. I have no idea when my sands will stop falling, whether I’ll get cancer or suffer a paralyzing stroke. What if Karma decides to stop tip toeing on the boundaries of my life & finally unleashes her demons on my life… This pathetic, pathetic excuse for a life. I live in a cell where my cells are comprised into a tormenting body of grief. I can’t even look in the mirror without feeling the bile rising in my throat from disgust. This mask, this facade I keep is only going to last for so long. My problems, my guilt, my sins are continuing to pile up like the sorrowful holocaust bones outside of Auschwitz. What is my purpose? Why am I here? Where am I going?
Did she cool the Cookie Monster?