I can feel the pressure. It’s getting harder now.

I hate being pressed.  I can’t stand being pressured until everything in me is squeezed out like an orange in a juicer.  It’s easy to say that you want to change, that you want to deal with all the crap in your life and weed it out.  It’s another thing completely to actually have those things worked out.  Being perfected hurts.  It comes at a high price.  It isn’t easy to obtain, and it shouldn’t be.  It was purchased at a price too high to comprehend.  It’s only reasonable that it should cost me something as well.

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