i like looking for houses to buy even though i’m not ready to buy one and my co-buyer does not have good enough credit for us to get a good interest rate and isn’t really interested in having a gigantic loan in the first place. fine, maybe i’m stupid. i just like having something to strive for or look forward to. i’m fine with renting but there are so few acceptable places to live that also charge an acceptable amount for rent and are also in an acceptable location for a family that doesn’t own a car.
does it matter that i will most likely not own a house? can’t i look at it and dream of getting a similar one someday? can’t i say that it’s possible when my son asks me if we can live in a house “like the one we saw, that mommy dreams to live in”? can’t i look at my grandma’s engagement rings and hope that my boyfriend will pop the question? can’t i be a girly girl who wants what every one else wants and not be hushed by a harsh cynic?
what’s the point if there isn’t anything to dream about? if there’s nothing after this, what’s the point in fucking around like there’s time to spare? guess what, there isn’t a point. there’s no point to anything really.
i feel like my time is running out and that each day i live is wasted and i’m just that much closer to the end. but i can’t control my whole life. it’s simply isn’t possible to control everything and be happy. because then, there aren’t any surprises. do i want to know what’s going to happen next? sure, sometimes.
i don’t really have an end for this random outlet.
