I Don’t Know How To Be Alive Correctly

I know there is no right way to be alive. I know there is sometimes just this, survival. And dirt. And clawing our way out of the thick of it.
I know there is no right way to be alive. I know there is sometimes just this, survival. And dirt. And clawing our way out of the thick of it.
Real friends see each other in the shit and dark and areas they don’t want others to see. They see it and say, “I love you, you freak.”
You never wanted to live in Los Angeles. I never wanted to live in New York. There we were, standing on two different ends of the country unwilling to find common ground.
Be hurt. Be disappointed. Be honest. But don’t condemn someone for all these feelings.
Women can do whatever they want. They can be whoever they want. Women are rejecting being placed in such a rigid box. They are climbing up the corporate ladder. They are turning passion projects into career paths.
Jim would have left Scranton for a cooler city way earlier. Pam would have married someone like Roy.