(no subject)
Most people have to hide behind their cucibles, punching away their keyboard, dismissing the islands of pop-ups and "unrelated to work" websites. When is a website ever related to work, really?
So, I'm ankle deep in summer. I'm finished all the responsibility of attending class and handing in junk that I never possessed any interest in. Now I spend my days trolling away at work or sleeping in Lauren's bed. Which is always a blast; I'd rather not sleep in my own bed nowadays. I really have enormous plans for summer, as if I haven't lived it up enough already, most of which includes frequent trips to the shore, a film project I have yet to initiate at work, a few underground concerts, and the joy and sadness of turning that dismal age of 21. Oh, I'll have nothing at all to do.
It's relieving that the summer months are finally draped over me, however I find myself thinking in terms of countdowns as of recently. It's a habit I picked up from my childhood, when I would float around in the final weeks of school, counting down the days of attended class like the blur of a served prison sentence. Now my countdown notes the days I have left before summer expires, as if counting the days until I go back to jail.
I do see school as a served sentence, but in order to attain my degree it hardly seems suitable to be considered anything less. I mean, there are obvious perks to the situation.
Like, I don't have to worry about being poor yet.
Here I type, bored and rubbing my achy back in the sales section of TLA Video, occassionally viewing an assembly line of emotional mutants and porn aficianados. Overall, though, the scene is quiet; moist from an oncoming rain that everyone seems prepared for but no one will really notice. From here, it's hard to believe I'm three years deep into this college grave; realistically, I don't expect to be as involved in my school as I wasn't in highschool, nor do I expect a particularly satisfying and high-paying job. But I'm in an awfully warm place. I'm involved with someone that I feel supremely happy to be in the presence of, I'm moving back home to the Northeast, and I have the stability of family, Lauren, and my own personal interest in enlightenment. I sat in with a Buddhist procession with Sam, and in conjunction with my own self-improvement, I'm trying to control my environment, and feel like myself without feeling weed-caked or strung out from my anxiety.
So, I'm ankle deep in my self-awareness as well, I suppose. I'm gross and insulted by my own anger sometimes, and this is the time and the place to do it. No point in missing out.
So, I'm ankle deep in summer. I'm finished all the responsibility of attending class and handing in junk that I never possessed any interest in. Now I spend my days trolling away at work or sleeping in Lauren's bed. Which is always a blast; I'd rather not sleep in my own bed nowadays. I really have enormous plans for summer, as if I haven't lived it up enough already, most of which includes frequent trips to the shore, a film project I have yet to initiate at work, a few underground concerts, and the joy and sadness of turning that dismal age of 21. Oh, I'll have nothing at all to do.
It's relieving that the summer months are finally draped over me, however I find myself thinking in terms of countdowns as of recently. It's a habit I picked up from my childhood, when I would float around in the final weeks of school, counting down the days of attended class like the blur of a served prison sentence. Now my countdown notes the days I have left before summer expires, as if counting the days until I go back to jail.
I do see school as a served sentence, but in order to attain my degree it hardly seems suitable to be considered anything less. I mean, there are obvious perks to the situation.
Like, I don't have to worry about being poor yet.
Here I type, bored and rubbing my achy back in the sales section of TLA Video, occassionally viewing an assembly line of emotional mutants and porn aficianados. Overall, though, the scene is quiet; moist from an oncoming rain that everyone seems prepared for but no one will really notice. From here, it's hard to believe I'm three years deep into this college grave; realistically, I don't expect to be as involved in my school as I wasn't in highschool, nor do I expect a particularly satisfying and high-paying job. But I'm in an awfully warm place. I'm involved with someone that I feel supremely happy to be in the presence of, I'm moving back home to the Northeast, and I have the stability of family, Lauren, and my own personal interest in enlightenment. I sat in with a Buddhist procession with Sam, and in conjunction with my own self-improvement, I'm trying to control my environment, and feel like myself without feeling weed-caked or strung out from my anxiety.
So, I'm ankle deep in my self-awareness as well, I suppose. I'm gross and insulted by my own anger sometimes, and this is the time and the place to do it. No point in missing out.