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Things grow. Things change. We all do and through it all I still can never figure out why the single thing change truly and ultimately brings is more change. And no, I’m not talking about the image of figurative quarters and dimes that you’re currently viewing in your personal cinema that you call a mind. I’m talking about cold, hard change. The kind that drives you to look in the mirror and wonder what the fuck happened yesterday. The kind that can have you waking up one day with an ecstatic vision of literal success, fuelled by dreams of ecstasy and creationary difference, yet can have you wake up the day after only to wonder why the fuck you arnt still sleeping. I’m talking about that kind of change, the one fueled on by glasses of red wine and one too many family dinners. Fueled by great expectations yet to be fulfilled or disappointed. Real. Hard. Change.

I never expected things to change so drastically.  This man I’ve already named seven times in only a few sentences is no more then a mere stranger. He’s up there suffocating vodka shots with his old war buddies father time and the grim reaper. He’s no more a friend to me then he is to the underappreciated father, chained to his paper being whipped by a superior who cut a deal with the evil sin we know as hierarchy.  He’s not a friend to any of us. You see, even that superior goes home to a wife who’s attention he lost many years earlier to the price of a new louis vuitton bag that the slut Margret across the street bought earlier that week. They play tennis with Margret on Tuesdays.  We can’t befriend change. We can’t get the best of change. We’re playing a game of cards with a rigged deck, and it isn’t rigged in our favor.

Change did once take advantage of me. I was like young soul experiencing that very much real emotion we have labeled as love for the first time, and change ripped her away from me. Tore her from my still hopeful life and forced her to draw eyes on others that would lie with her the way I did, like a firefly’s beauty that you naively and completely believed would only shine for you.  I guess stars remain bright no matter whose eyes they are seen from.

But change has yet to fully break me down. I’ll remain brave and I’ll remain strong, no matter how many punches he throws. I’ll accept the fact that change cannot be mastered nor befriended, I will not play on the same team as change for change knows no rules nor no understanding of right versus wrong. Change does what change wants to do, and you need to strap in for the ride or be ready for a long game of “are we there yet”. The answer is always no, and no one ever wins. However you must remember to brace for the everlasting forceful punch in the stomach and remind yourself constantly to carry on.

Sometimes you have to look change in the face and challenge him at his own game. Sometimes you’ll wake up depressed and beaten by dreams of ex lovers on sober shores ignoring you’re very much true effort to reach out, yet you have to remain strong and fight the urge to pull that cover over you and pray to whatever divine being it is we pray in these days that your next dream might bode a little brighter then the one you’re currently trying so passionately to elude. You must use change the way change uses you. Like a pawn crawling space by space unbeknown to its opponent that this pawn one day strives to be queen. And when you are discovered, and ultimately and undeniable you will be discovered. You will be prepared.
 

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What is this for? A short story?

Well written, but uh a lil bit Purpley in the prose if you know what I mean.
Very emotional haha. Part about the Louis Vuitton bag made me cringe tho, its so obvious

4th paragraph was dat real shit boi
 
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