I came to terms awhile ago with the fact that I'm a hipster, and that includes in my mind. I think big and long and too much.
I've been pretty darn lucky to have a small group of people in life who not only accept this about me, but they kind of like it about me.
But I don't think even they quite know the extend of my never-ceasing brain.
I wish I could say that I was constantly thinking of how to see God in the world or how to cure cancer or homelessness or ways to evolve into a better person.
Most of the time, I'm just worrying.
Worrying that someone else I love will die in a car accident, or worrying that I'll never be used by God in the way I want, or worrying I'll be a bad aunt when my sister has her nine children and I'll play favourites, or worrying that my friends whom I love dearly will say, "Jk we hate you," or worrying that I'm not thin and beautiful with long curly locks, or worrying that I'm not prepared for a zombie apocalypse and do I have what it takes to shoot myself before a zombie eats me.
Hello, and welcome to the beyond crazy world of Meagan's Brain. The self-loathing is to the left, the self-pity is to the right, and the nonsensical worrying that never shuts up is straight ahead.
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