Making It

I started this blog to track my progress.

I started this blog to see if I could make it.

I am not sure if I have made progress.

I am less sure of what making it will ever look like.

I am 22 years old.

I have been a waitress for 8 years, and I don’t usually hate it.

Unless they ask for lemons.

My brain thinks that airplanes are for sleeping, so I am out before the stewardess points to the exits.

Stewardesses are like waitresses that don’t get tipped.

I’ve written a book.  It’s even published.

I serve people pad thai and spicy coconut chicken soup.

Home is starting to be my default place.

That is backwards from most of my life.

I swam in the hudson river yesterday.

I was surprised that it was salt water and cut my knee on a barnacle.

I like the word barnacle.

One day I will wonder what the hell I’ve done with my life.

I might have written 5 books by then, and they might all be published.

There are children that wake up hungry every morning.

Where do dreams come from?

I started writing because I was afraid of being forgotten.

I started writing because I wondered if I existed.

There are wars and floods and fires and rapes happening now.

I wonder if I will ever know what making it really looks like.

I serve food to fat people.

I am 22 years old and does beauty matter?

The word “we” makes me feel less alone.

These circles get smaller and smaller.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in Writing Tips. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Making It

  1. Andy O. says:

    i really like this one. being reflective is good, and youve got a real gift for sharing it. thanks for blessing me with perspective. youre in my prayers.

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