Agendas Anonymous

I have an agenda like some people have weed, alcohol, or sex. It’s – I don’t even know the word for it – it stresses me out and keeps me from being stressed at the same time. With an agenda, I can stress about the things on it, which can be accomplished easily and are often trivial or a matter of finding the time to do such things. Without it, I would have to stress about my life, the things that I cannot control, the things that are not easily changed.

I thrive off of being busy, I have to have a plan, a route, a plan b, c, and d. It's like an addiction. I'm running out of things to do. I'm about to start my life, and I'm scared, unsure. I'm going into unmarked territory, and for the first time, I'm apprehensive abut what may be in store. Can you put life on a to-do list?

Guide me, dear Lord.

Shooting Star

It was good while it lasted. It was like a shooting star -- rare, beautiful, often searched for, and ultimately fleeting. That doesn't changed what it meant, and notice I use "it" because we never exactly bestowed a definition upon it, but that doesn't change what it meant. I wondered why it was different, and I got the answer to my question. You really shouldn't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to, but I did want to know the answer to this one. And I feel more settled now. I never have really like crickets, but if Jimeney had a loud enough voice to influence your choice, then this is the way it was meant to be. She was the original, is the original, supposed to be the only one. It was short-lived, but fun. Now you've been on the outside, and you know what it's like, it's like when you walk outside on a clear, starry night, and you see a beautiful silver burst streak across the sky, and in the deepest depths of my heart, I'd wish for you and I, but everything happens for a reason, and you're a them, and not an us, so enjoy every moment, because what you have will last, I'll see you, and I'll smile, about the present, not the past. You can be more than cordial, because no one will ever know, shooting stars leave no traces, if you don't see them when they happen, then you don't see them at all. I hope you never feel nostalgic, because that wouldn't be fair to any of us. I don't regret it, feel slight remorse, more like MeShell. I'll stand out on my porch one day, and you'll sit on your stoop, a shooting star will fly by, you'll think of me, and I of you. Hopefully the memories will be nothing but fond, but like that star, we exist only for a moment, we were never meant to go on.