There are giants in the sky.
"The fun is done.
You steal what you can and run.
And you scramble down
And you look below,
And the world you know
Begins to grow:"
Finals are killer. It's not that my work load is really terribly heavy. In fact, I have much less work than usual for this finals week. Instead, I am just worn from running everywhere all semester. I am still dying for the ability to settle in to some routine. I almost had it, I've almost had it. Then, something comes up. Every week, there is always something, "only different than before."
"And it's then that you miss
All the things you've known
And the world you've left
And the little you own-"
This song is a little wrong. I'm not having a problem with growing up, only wishing it would hurry up and get here. Being in college as a person with too many responsibilities is not fun anymore. You are violating friendships, and watching them float away before your very eyes. You have learned enough to know how to hold on ... but lack the ability. You know so much, and because of that realize how little you can actually do and actually understand and actually change. The depression of the situation is always lurking just around the corner, and there is only yourself to understand it.
"And you heart is lead
And your stomach stone
And you're really scared
Being all alone..."
It's okay. Finals are almost over and then I'll have the time. The time to fill with my responsibilities and the time to cry over laughter I've been missing, that I will always miss. I am hardly discontent, but I will not regret leaving this place. I am ready to go. At one point, I worried I would not be able to say goodbye. How funny now that I cannot bear the sight of a the doorways, and have not the energy for conversation. I cannot always be your happy place.
How funny it is to hear your jokes without you telling them. I miss having a place, a purpose. Routine isn't always enough.
"And you think of all of the things you've seen,
And you wish that you could live in between,
And you're back again,
Only different than before,
After the sky."
My right rear wheel is bent. That costs lots to repair. I hope this does not cause a large problem in the future, for I have not the money to fix it.
Silly Sondheim essay ... aren't you done yet? Listening to this music is beginning to affect my brain ...
You steal what you can and run.
And you scramble down
And you look below,
And the world you know
Begins to grow:"
Finals are killer. It's not that my work load is really terribly heavy. In fact, I have much less work than usual for this finals week. Instead, I am just worn from running everywhere all semester. I am still dying for the ability to settle in to some routine. I almost had it, I've almost had it. Then, something comes up. Every week, there is always something, "only different than before."
"And it's then that you miss
All the things you've known
And the world you've left
And the little you own-"
This song is a little wrong. I'm not having a problem with growing up, only wishing it would hurry up and get here. Being in college as a person with too many responsibilities is not fun anymore. You are violating friendships, and watching them float away before your very eyes. You have learned enough to know how to hold on ... but lack the ability. You know so much, and because of that realize how little you can actually do and actually understand and actually change. The depression of the situation is always lurking just around the corner, and there is only yourself to understand it.
"And you heart is lead
And your stomach stone
And you're really scared
Being all alone..."
It's okay. Finals are almost over and then I'll have the time. The time to fill with my responsibilities and the time to cry over laughter I've been missing, that I will always miss. I am hardly discontent, but I will not regret leaving this place. I am ready to go. At one point, I worried I would not be able to say goodbye. How funny now that I cannot bear the sight of a the doorways, and have not the energy for conversation. I cannot always be your happy place.
How funny it is to hear your jokes without you telling them. I miss having a place, a purpose. Routine isn't always enough.
"And you think of all of the things you've seen,
And you wish that you could live in between,
And you're back again,
Only different than before,
After the sky."
My right rear wheel is bent. That costs lots to repair. I hope this does not cause a large problem in the future, for I have not the money to fix it.
Silly Sondheim essay ... aren't you done yet? Listening to this music is beginning to affect my brain ...