Priorities

I DARE YOU TO READ THIS. I DARE YOU TO WRITE ME. I DARE YOU."Where yo priorities at, girl?" I don't know. Things have been really screwy these past two semesters. Sometimes you have time to write but you just don't feel like writing. Or you feel like writing and don't have time. I've felt that way since May, daggnabbit! Well, I've neglected you long enough I think....left you on the back burner long enough to feel burned....I think that recently my priorities have been all flip-flopped. Money didn't matter to me, now it does. Friends in high places didn't matter to me, but now it does. Social prestige didn't....now it does. Success didn't....now it does. Is it America, I wonder? Would I have been destined to be a non-sinner in India? Or is it age? As we grow older do we become horriblly unidealistic people? My spiritual life, once a great font of joy and wisdom has slowly deteriorated into a few words murmured in the midst of some crisis. What matters to me now?? What matters to me anymore?? I search for love as the elixer to all my woes and find it not. My friends mattered to me and they still do. I always have had time for my friends but now.....relationships aren't nurtured anymore. They pass along the wayside like the much forgotten chaffs that time leaves behind. I want to write. I want my words to fall onto these pages like tears. Tears of all that I've kept within for so long. Writing is catharsis for me. Writing is my SCREAM, my CRY, my PAIN, my ANGUISH. Not many people understand that. Sometimes I try to forget that I understand that. If I could write epistle after epistle to all the world, I would. Where are the people I really cared about? Why is "out of sight-out of mind" such a true phenomenon. I NEED TO RANT AND RAVE RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO LET IT ALL OUT.I MAY NOT BE BEAUTIFUL ON THE OUTSIDE BUT DAMN IT.....i am.Well, I realized recently that I'm not most people's "type" in terms of physical beauty. Kind of sad. Who's"type" am I? Why am I attracted to handsome men? Shouldn't I have learned that I'm not physically good enough for them? You'd think I'd learn by now. My friends say that they want to help me find a man. What is this? The SAVE-L***-FROM-A-LIFE-OF-LONELINESS campaign? My parents encouraged me to put up a matrimonial ad. Which I did. It hasn't helped. I must be hideous or maybe be i'm too "special". I short bus must exist somewhere for me. Yea, I know....cheerful me and an outrightly depressing entry: it just doesn't match up. Happy people hurt too. See my heart....? It bleeds like yours.