You know what? I need my everyday, stupid, societal, shallow thoughts and actions and ideas and steps. I need the fucking treadmill. I need somebody to tell me how to define my worth. That's right, I need big corporations and government and a society filled with overwhelming prejudice to define my worth. I need somebody else to tell me what to do. Because I can't keep sitting here making up my own life. I cannot just fall through life and see what happens. I will die if I do. And maybe that undermines everything that makes me wild and free and full. Maybe that defies all that is myself. Maybe that makes me seem shallow and stupid. Maybe that will ruin all my work as a writer. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But I need for somebody to tell me that if I don't make peace with "God" that I'm going to hell. I need somebody to tell me that being anything more than "skinny" is not okay. I need somebody to tell me that saving for retirement and then spending it all on a nice condo in Florida is a good idea. I need somebody to tell me that sex is nasty and wrong. I need somebody to tell me that getting a good job that pays well counts as a fulfilling and meaningful thing to call my life's work. I need somebody to tell me that if I don't get married and settle down and have children that I am not doing it right.

All those things are comforting. And guess what all you ball-busters of life? I need comfort. I need the approval of the shit heads around me. I need the approval of my parents and my teachers and my friends and my strangers and my neighbors and my sibling and my cousins and my co-workers and my grandparents and my enemies and my aunts and my soul mates and my acquaintances and my uncles and my priests and my church-friends and my classmates and my gods. I need somebody, just kidding everybody, to put their checkmark of "cool in my book" next to my name. I need that. I find comfort in being liked as much as possible. I find comfort in following along with the crowd and being just like everybody else. I find comfort in having people have only good things to say about me.

I am the most approval-seeking being on this planet. At least, I think. And nobody  wants to admit to being that person. Nobody is ever supposed to admit that all they fucking want at the end of the day is for people to fucking like them, fucking approve of their fucking existence. But guess what everybody? I do. I want approval. And it's about time we all just fucking own up to it. It's about time we start admitting that we care what other people think about us. We fucking care.

I need the shallow end of the pool. I need to be able to wade where my feet can touch the bottom. Because treading water in the deep end is tiring me out. In fact, it is killing me. You can survive in the shallow end, your legs might get a little tired from standing or your bum a little sore from sitting but you can make it out alive. But man, in the deep end? That's another story. You got about 20 minutes before you get to the point where you just can't do it anymore. Your head starts bobbing underneath the surface and your limbs are exhausted and all you want- the only fucking thing you want- is to fall. To drown. To stop having to try to get to air. All you want to do is fucking let. it. all. go. The deep end brings you to the point where you have no choice but to die, or get yourself as quickly as you can back to the place where your feet can touch the cold, slimy, fungus-iced tile of the shallow end.