I have had the opportunity to participate in a writing group this month. The following excerpt is from one of my entries:
There are some days I am unable to behave better. I know I should. I should just dust off that Super Woman cape and make it happen. But I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t behave better.
Besides, sometimes I don’t want to. I don’t want to behave better. In fact, I relish the idea of behaving badly. It would be so fun to be as bad as I want to be. To scream and yell and kick my feet and tell the truth to the world. Yes, I fantasize about behaving badly. Can I have my turn, please?
But, I don’t. I don’t do those things that I wish I could.
And yet, sometimes, I do other things. And I am ashamed.
I wish I could be stronger, more, better. But, I am just not there. Yet. My humanness wins out and undoes my higher self. I am unable to behave better.