I want to be in that moment, waiting for the bus to go to Cha Cha Lounge with Jamie Patterson. I want to be going over that mini-bridge from that movie she loves that we watched a million times on the t.v. that we actually had to bang the top of, to get working.

When she asked what I want to do, I told her I was too tired for a question like that? I'm beginning to wonder how much it matters. I have very basic goals in life: I want to be happy. Everything I do is in ordinance with pursuing that one goal. When I stray from it, when I do something that makes me miserable, it's because I'm doing something to make someone else happy. Which in turn is making me happy.

This will also destroy me. I should say can; this CAN also destroy me. If I know no sacrifice, how can I truly be happy. If everything I do is secretly for me, what's the point? Bah.

Bar philosopher.

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