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I'm Sandy & wholesome.
You're something special when you're 17 And from there on the world is a slippery slope of melting madness & nonsense staining your favorite blue jeans. Or in my case, a hole or ripping of the sole in my favorite cowgirl boots. Now who's to repair those pretty things? Or perhaps it's more suitable to say there is no world...implying a sense of unity that I've only seen in movies & never truly felt for myself. Perhaps we'll stick to some broad term that gives reasoning to any metaphor or cast aside cliche we keep safe in our pockets for a rainy day when someone isn't familiar with it...pulling it out to make it our own. And so I'll say life. Life could be a climb...a fall at some point in time & a struggle to continue. But I don't often feel like climbing & hard work is only inspired in me by immigrants & the idea that in the near future I'll possess the benefits. When I met a man who owned a pen collection & prayed for God to relieve him of the desire to touch himself I decided to stop reading. Confusion & uncertainty comes from knowing too much. I'll gain less knowledge than others but turn it into gold & teach them from bullcrap philosophy & terms I coined as a kid. Surely someone will mistake the utter lacking of substance as intelligence & depth. Children & dreams of fulfilling satisfying lives & homes with families & happiness. It's far too much, far too great of a responsibility for anyone to ever attain. I'm afraid we wouldn't know what to do with it. From there we'd create misery from perfection. Wishing for the farmer's flaws.