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fork, not a spoon

January 30, 2013

i’m at a fork.  not a spoon, not a knife, but a fork.  i don’t know where to go or who to be or what to do.  so i’m just standing at this fork.

a year and a half ago i moved to d.c., convinced that if i changed my surroundings, i would change my life.  a year and a half later, my life is very much the same.  except i feel that with each passing moment i’m losing more and more of myself.  my dreams crash and burn and give way to reality.  my fairy tale fades into black and white.  my passions slowly fizzle until i only get out of bed each morning because i have to.  a year and a half ago i was hopeful and optimistic and chipper and exuberant.  today i’m just depressed.

i’m depressed and standing at a fork.

and if i have to be standing anywhere, why can’t i be standing at a spoon?  at least then i could have some ice cream…

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