Small Things

So, I have been thinking when was the last time I wrote something that wasn't about me. It's been ages. I also can't remember a day I had a great time, where I forgot all my worries, when I didn't feel out of place or feel the need to be back home. When I didn't have to swallow my words and keep my thoughts quite, where I had been just me. Is this just being adult or is it more. I, for one day, want to step out of this circle of obligation and responsibilities and sensibility, and indulge in me. I am sure everyone wants that. A mother, above everyone else, perhaps needs that break, to indulge in themselves, just for a while. But when someone does go out and do that, we judge them. Big time. I just remembered I did that, and not too long ago. I guess sometimes we have to sit back and think about what we believe in and what we actually do. I for one, am aware that my actions and my thoughts are often in contradiction to what I believe in and firmly support and I