Freewrite Experiment Prompt #10

Staring at the failure of my life...
(prompt submitted by joondream)

My mother told me I could be whatever I wanted to be. Okay, she didn't really "tell me" as much as "drum it into my head so persistently that I'm sure I started saying it in my sleep". In fact, when I popped out of the womb and started screaming at the top of my lungs, I'm sure the doctor laid me against her chest and her first words to me were, "Oh Samantha, never forget that you can be whatever you want to be". And even with all the repetition, which is a tool they say works very well with small children, I guess it never, really, sunk in all the way. I mean, unless what she meant by "whatever I wanted to be" was a hooker and a junkie. I suppose that is possible. Because, really, being a hooker and a junkie does have it's benefits. I get laid a lot, I certainly can't complain in that department. People even give me money for it. Which in turn I use to buy heroin. And heroin, well, whatever they say about it...it still feels fucking fantastic. Because the truth of addiction is that you don't get addicted to something that initially makes you feel like shit. Well, I guess there are those pain people who like to feel like shit, but I'm not one of those. Feeling like shit is not on the top of my list. Though it does happen more and more these days. And that's why I'm not fully convinced I got Mom's plans for me at all right. No, I don't think "be whatever you want to be" translated at all to "hooker/junkie". I think she was thinking more along the lines of "doctor" or "pulizer prize winning journalist". Lord knows where I took that wrong turn. Those intentions she had, they were fucking brilliant so what the fuck happened?

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