Who wants the truth? I can’t handle the truth!


Beginning: angry, nervous, annoyed, pissed off, frustrated, strung out, stressed.

End: calm (i’ll figure it out somehow) + another little wrinkle.


Wrinkles are good.

“Did you know you earn your wrinkles?

When you make your life matter. When you make every day count. When you worry about giving your walk a meaning… You earn your wrinkles.

So I decided, instead, my wrinkles will be signs that, while I’m not getting any younger, I am in fact becoming much wiser. They will be signs, like memories, of the times I laughed; the times I had the chance to put my face to the sun on bright days; the times I worried and then found the strength to overcome the hurdles.

They will be signs that I’ve been strong. They will be signs of what I’ve experienced. Signs that I’ve lived…  Signs that at least I tried really hard to lead a full and sparkling life.”


Sometimes I like your truth  more than mine.

In this entangled web of lies, the truth is growing in me and I have accepted it becoming a reality. Whispered, then spoken. In clear shouts.


Remember me, I will never be the same.