Still feels like I deserve $9.25 an hour. Still feels like I deserve to pack a lunch. Still deserves like I deserve a write up. Still feels like I don’t deserve what I have.

It look me 3 months to buy a mattress when I moved into my place. It took me a year to buy a bed frame. All because of the fear that I would go back to not having a home without wheels.

Prepare for everything, experience nothing.

I don’t know how long I will be here, but while I am here, I hope to spend a majority of it on “do not disturb”, flying down a canyon in the foothills, forgetting about the gravity that holds me back, and the society that makes me feel like it will never be enough.

The less I listen, the less I hear.