Driving.

The wind slashes at her car as she drives through the night, barely making yellow lights, flying towards nowhere. There is no one in the passenger seat; her only company is the voice on the radio. She steps on the gas and speeds away under the delusional idea that the faster she goes, the quicker she can catch up to the girl she used to be.

Of Mice And Men.

I think I've been living my life wrong. See, I have this crazy imagination -- I let my dreams run wild, get caught up in the beauty of how infinite the possibilities of my future are, then crash into a wall the second the tiniest flicker of doubt enters my mind. Not the doubt that I may not succeed -- the doubt that I may be wasting my time going after something I don't want. It's not that I'm fickle -- just curious. Open minded. Eager to live my life, but confused about how I'm supposed to be living it. I know what advice any sensible person would give me: enjoy your life and stop worrying so much. You're still young, you have plenty of time to figure out what you want and who you are. But what if I make a mistake? What if I go down a one way road that leads to a life that I could never be proud of? I know I'm being dramatic. I know that the future can only be planned up to a certain extent, and that even "the best laid plans...often go astray." But we only have one chance to live, and I guess I'm scared that I won't get it right. I can only hope that my tendency to dream too much will one day land me where I'm meant to be.