True strength isn’t inherited, or learned, but earned in hard lessons meant to undo the spirit. Like the prize boxer, true strength comes from building what it takes to fight for your life.
I was supposed to be in Atlanta promoting my book. If you read “So much for my happy ending” you understand. I wasn’t going to make a dime from it. But I would’ve gotten a booth and attention. But not a damn dime. I hate money. I hate that people try to take advantage of other people’s talent. I questioned. I told him I needed a book agreement. He decided I asked too many questions.
But I can’t help but think how fabulous it would’ve been. I told all my friends, and then I had to tell them the real story. Now I’m at home writing this blog. Deep down, I know I made the right decision. In real life there are no happy endings, just endings. In real life there are no princes galloping on white horses. I’m not meant to be rescued. That doesn’t mean I have to die. I just got to knock out that evil step bitch myself. I have to climb down the tower myself. I just got to own my life. I say fuck being rescued. That prince probably would’ve just held it over my head for the rest of my life. It’s not easy. To dream. To want something. It isn’t easy. It isn’t easy. It isn’t easy.
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