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12/7/16
past midnight
I put my pen down. I was writing only to feel I have purpose. To justify something to myself. Perhaps that I have the right to have anything at all. In order to deserve anything, I must be doing something to deserve it. Otherwise, who am I to even ask for a cup of water? I think is what it is.
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But, it’s nice to sit in a bar and drink a pint of beer for lunch, as a 30 year old woman, while on break from work, and simply think thoughts. No justification needed. I’m here and I will do nothing but think and drink my beer. I deserve that, because it feels good. End of story.
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