Introspective? Deep?
That’s a hard one to live up to. How do we continue to show our real lives and our true selves? We all think we don’t have anything interesting to say, and yet, when we actually sit down and say it, we find that people are interested. The deeper we go into ourselves, the more that people are interested. That being said, I have no clue what to write about. So, here’s a little blubber of nothing for you to chew on…
Sometimes I wonder why it is we become our parents. How does this happen? When does this happen? Does it only happen once we have our own children, or is it just a matter of maturity and experience?
Sometimes I wonder if my child will become like me. Will he have a family that makes him feel the way I do-ectastic, lucky, thankful, grateful, frustrated, scared, elated, hopeful, terrified-when he is an adult? Will he blame me or thank me for the way his life has arrived? Or will I not be included in the process.
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever see grandchildren.
Sometimes I wonder if I will live through seeing my parents pass on.
Sometimes I wonder if I will be left alone or if it will be Steve that will be left alone. Will I be angry that we didn’t do the whole car off the edge of the cliff thing that we promised to do so many years ago so that neither of us would ever be alone?
Sometimes I wonder if Michael will be ok when we are gone.
And then I wonder how I ever became the total center of the Universe. How did I ever get so selfish? Why are these fears so based on ME ME ME?
Then I finally wonder if I will ever give myself a break and just deal with who I am and just say, hey, I’m not *THAT* bad.
Now while all this sounds very dreary, let me assure you that I didn’t intend for it. I just kind of threw out there whatever came to the surface. Take it for what its worth…
{forking madness over here} 