It's been awhile since my last post - I have no excuse. Well, I kind of do. I've been busy with work, but it makes time fly by because work doesn't feel like work to me. It never does. I often sit and think about how lucky I am to be where I am now... to be living the life that I'm experiencing. I live in the heart of Brooklyn. I have a great roommate (that alone is a blessing in itself and you would agree if you've had to live with roommates.) I have my dream job. I have a solid group of friends that I can trust despite the fact that I moved here knowing not a single soul. Most of the time, I don't have the right to complain. It's a silly thing, isn't it? To complain when your life is so good? Of course, everybody has the right to feel what they feel and talk about it. But me... I always seem to stop myself. I don't allow my mind to be consumed in negative thoughts. In a way, I've become emotionless. I've allowed myself to feel only happiness but refuse to feel anything but that. I don't remember the last time I cried or felt sad. I don't remember the last time I was genuinely afraid, worried, or stressed out. I've taught myself to be this way, it's almost as if I've created the perfect person. Or a monster.
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