(no subject)
I think they charged me too much yesterday for that ice cream. I'd call and ask Lisa, but I don't have my phone. My stomach hurts. I'm excited. School makes me sick. My stomach really hurts. I'm reading Pride & Prejudice. When I think of ASU and this coming semester and the other coming semesters . . . I think about escape. I think about Bruce Wayne. I think that someday my restlessness and my fiction-induced want for adventure will succeed against better judgment and capitalism. I think that someday I might cut the lines and venture to the unknown! - which, in my limited vision, is easily vast. I think too often of the humidity in South America and the dust in Mexico. I think of my passport and its blank stamp boxes. I'd like to be buried with my passport - if I am buried. I think about swarthy old men leaning back in American lawn chairs. I think I look too old. I think I might die. I think it would probably better than whatever awaits. I think and think and think and can't sleep. I sleep only after I've pushed back the things I am fighting against and promise that I'll get 'em in the morning, I WILL survive. I wake up and feel time ticking, knocking on my door and turning on my alarm. Damn whoever it was that established months and the length of a year, the man who invented the clock - anyone who made time measurable and something we might count and lose. I can't think, I can't think. What is "the future"?! Does it start after I've graduated college? After I have a bachelors? My masters?! What do we do until then? Piss away our youth to part-time jobs and rent and phone bills and student loans? Drink? Party? I never knew what I wanted. Perhaps you all have less time to wait until your "future" is earned. When I have mine I'll be twenty six. I'll be mistaken for a thirty year old women, but I should just as well be. The future. The future. I don't want to be twenty and the more I wish against my age the faster it seems to arrive. There is no where to hide. I don't want someone to say "You're exactly where you're supposed to be." In no time, I'll be thirty years old, then fourty, then fifty.