A Gasoline Pump Is Not A Toy

Once,  I was a poor creature who looked to the sun for direction.

I lived on sugar and lived for the summer.  There was never enough time in the day.  There was always another adventure.  I waited for no one.  I wanted for nothing.  Except to run and to hide and to live forever as a bird would.  

Once, I was a frail girl who hated her nose.

I spoke to many people, but never said things that mattered.  I pretended and wished my days away.  I waited for things to end.  I wanted for too much.  Yet, I achieved nothing but mediocrity and intense disappointment. 

Once, I was a peculiar child who laughed at herself.

I went out at night and worked in the day.  I used my money for things that didn't matter and wasted gasoline.  I waited for the future.  I wanted for the past.  I left a lot of things behind in boxes, and still had too much to lug around with me.  

At any given moment, there are thousands of processes going on in just my right arm.  

There are synapses and nerves and blood cells and bone, and I can't even feel it.

You're going to live an entire life and still end up with only three words on your tombstone.

Tell me, can you feel it?