What to do with the fragile breath

I feel as though we are rushed in society.  This is probably to keep us in line.

Don't think.  Fall to simple observations.

I've been given some time to think and work out problems and develop skills beyond throwing feces at my captors.

They cry themselves to sleep, I'm sure.

  I know nobody cares.  Few people read my blog or watch my videos.  Like I said in the last post, I keep going.

The path of the antihero...  Hear my cries in the snow where I am buried. 

Thanks! Way to help, Putin!

Lately, I've thought of the future.  I haven't had a lot of choices in life -- well, good choices.  It was so weird to me when someone asked me, "What do you want to do with your life?"

I don't know.  I tried the whole indie publishing thing with my novels.  I don't think I'm mature enough to write anything worthwhile. I'm not ready. 

I do enjoy my textbooks, but I won't get anywhere in academia either.  I tend to fall to half-truths.  I'm working on that.

But what should I do?  I know what I shouldn't do.

I'm sure I'll figure it out. It's good to have choices beyond desperation.  It's a new power, and I love it.