frigid bear.

july + august. sara parks

I’m really frustrated about the lack of written content in my recent posts. I haven’t had anything nice to say because things at work aren’t exactly ideal and, even though I try to let it go and ride it out every evening, I’m still aching to leave all this shit.  I have no real prospects, leads, ideas, destinations, end goals, and yet I somehow feel so ready.
Ready to get a life, laugh.
Ready to slow it down, relax.
Ready to be a friend, befriend.
Ready to pick myself up, run.
Ready to take a leap, fall.
Just so ready (fuck ’em all).