Peace
Enlightenment is markedly dangerous, because it's impossible to measure objectively.
I'm in a strange place. I've spent the last couple weeks in a sort of limbo. My universe has become one of waiting. Purgatory isn't all bad, all the time, though. It has, however, made me more lackadaisical in my attitude, because this can't possibly be the important part of my life, I just haven't gotten there yet.
I'm really not entirely comfortable with the idea that I haven't even figured myself out yet, and that's really my problem.
Introspective is a dangerous path with many branches, and in the end I wonder how much one can really accomplish with it.
Nostalgia is killing me. I've always had trouble with change.
I feel like I don't have enough creative output. I haven't drawn or written for pleasure in a while.
Musically I have trouble expressing, simply because my current arrangement is a little, shall we say, creatively overpowering.
Lately I've also had a passing desire to get back into acting.
And of course, All I've ever wanted to do was sing, but we all know what happens when I do that, and it isn't pretty.
Catharsis, catharsis.
I only think my ideas are great because I've never given myself a chance to see them on paper.
Boston next week = incredibly excited (and distinctly lovestruck) Kyle.
//We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change.
I'm in a strange place. I've spent the last couple weeks in a sort of limbo. My universe has become one of waiting. Purgatory isn't all bad, all the time, though. It has, however, made me more lackadaisical in my attitude, because this can't possibly be the important part of my life, I just haven't gotten there yet.
I'm really not entirely comfortable with the idea that I haven't even figured myself out yet, and that's really my problem.
Introspective is a dangerous path with many branches, and in the end I wonder how much one can really accomplish with it.
Nostalgia is killing me. I've always had trouble with change.
I feel like I don't have enough creative output. I haven't drawn or written for pleasure in a while.
Musically I have trouble expressing, simply because my current arrangement is a little, shall we say, creatively overpowering.
Lately I've also had a passing desire to get back into acting.
And of course, All I've ever wanted to do was sing, but we all know what happens when I do that, and it isn't pretty.
Catharsis, catharsis.
I only think my ideas are great because I've never given myself a chance to see them on paper.
Boston next week = incredibly excited (and distinctly lovestruck) Kyle.
//We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change.