I know people who say their entire personalities have been eaten away by their husbands and families--until the only thing left is the label and there's little left of the original person. I think jobs can eat you too.
After all, aren't we the sum total of our experiences?
To paraphrase Saint Expuery, yeah--I know I'm spelling that wrong, but it's late and I don't feel like spell-checking--if nothing happens to stop you from growing into your mold, you become molded and then it all hardens. Writers, lol. We chase dreams. I've been chasing mine for years, maybe I need a bigger net.
I'm tired of screaming into the wind.
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