Bunnyrabbit's diary: +broken jpegs edition+

(copied from my paper diary):

But isn't it funny? Just when you think, "OK, yeah, I've got this figured out, this is how I want my life to be," that's when something goes and turns it upside down and you're no longer sure what you want for breakfast tomorrow let alone for the rest of your life! In the distance I can see her tree and how it almost seems to wave and wink - he knew all along.

This just makes me human, much to my chagrin. I think I've finally got the cold slap of reality that says, "You know what, kiddo? You know those dreams? They are not coming true. Sorry about your luck, pal."

And that's it... isn't it? It's like a mirror cracking or my heart breaking. I want to scream. I want to climb a tree, look at the sky and demand some answers. Why do I have to want so many things obviously out of my reach? Some people, the smart ones, they aim low. My crosshairs are always lined up in the centre of the most perfect star... past Jupiter and Pluto even.

Sometimes I want to put a bullet in my brain. I see my future - boring and nothing like I want it to be - and I think that I would rather die now with only moderate disappointment as opposed to the type of bitterness that comes with being 85 and on my death bed. Why should I wait for the inevitable? Because maybe my life won't be as dour as I predict? Maybe there is a slice of happiness reserved for me? What's the point?

I think that someone has my happiness, crystallised, caramilised, a small core of pure love, hidden away in a pocket or maybe a night side table drawer. And there I sit... waiting for someone to see it and recognise me and swallow my core.