I am stuck in flux
I'm sitting in the library. I should, in order to continue my social advancement, be doing any one of the myriad projects that school endlessly heaps upon us aspiring academic types.
I'm not. I know why too. I still feel like a kid. I can sense this impending adulthood. I am changing and becoming more like a vision I have of myself. It's a more serious, contemplative person. It's a vision of someone who can get things done when intended.
I am not doing my homework because this change isn't to that stage yet. It's taking a long time. I feel like rushing it, like pushing against the natural flow of things but I know that this would just frustrate me, at best, and at worst, invoke the scorn of the great cosmic tides of fate at my hubris.
I have my whole life to live like a kid again, if I can just focus and concentrate, just this once, just 'til I am done. All I have to do is put everything else away, all the lovers, all the games. It's such an act of will, so difficult to say no to fun.
How I long to hold my head high knowing that I am in good standing having turned in each and every one of the assignments due. I know I have it in me but I am still insecure. I have felt like an outsider to this mainstream world. Sure I feel at home out on the trails, in the magic land of freedom and love (you know of what I speak, grin with my in our secret) but that does little to assuage my Dean. I want to put my labor of knowledge first, but that doesn't feed that little hunger, that whisper in my ear that says I don't fit in. I run from my books to calm myself and reassure an awkward voice in me that I am desirable, that I am worthy of respect and affection.
It looks so shallow and petty written here on my screen. I suspect that there are deeper layers than I have yet probed. Don't we all do what we do out of base animalistic instincts in a sense, as Freud proposed? Maybe it is that I have a resentment against the entire society I find myself a part of. I admit, the idea of contributing to the Gross Domestic Product is slightly unappealing.
Yet every moment awake brings me closer to this person I want to be. Just the will to keep my eyes open, that's enough to prove my intention. Each assignment make me more a student. each jog make me more an athlete. Each character I type makes me more of a writer, the ones I don't look at the keyboard for count extra.
Now to describe my mood...
Awake fits, kinda, busy is what I want to be, contemplative works, determined there's a word for you! Hopeful, but isn't that everyone, all the time, according to Pandora? It would be Optimistic to say I will be Productive, I like that.
I'm not. I know why too. I still feel like a kid. I can sense this impending adulthood. I am changing and becoming more like a vision I have of myself. It's a more serious, contemplative person. It's a vision of someone who can get things done when intended.
I am not doing my homework because this change isn't to that stage yet. It's taking a long time. I feel like rushing it, like pushing against the natural flow of things but I know that this would just frustrate me, at best, and at worst, invoke the scorn of the great cosmic tides of fate at my hubris.
I have my whole life to live like a kid again, if I can just focus and concentrate, just this once, just 'til I am done. All I have to do is put everything else away, all the lovers, all the games. It's such an act of will, so difficult to say no to fun.
How I long to hold my head high knowing that I am in good standing having turned in each and every one of the assignments due. I know I have it in me but I am still insecure. I have felt like an outsider to this mainstream world. Sure I feel at home out on the trails, in the magic land of freedom and love (you know of what I speak, grin with my in our secret) but that does little to assuage my Dean. I want to put my labor of knowledge first, but that doesn't feed that little hunger, that whisper in my ear that says I don't fit in. I run from my books to calm myself and reassure an awkward voice in me that I am desirable, that I am worthy of respect and affection.
It looks so shallow and petty written here on my screen. I suspect that there are deeper layers than I have yet probed. Don't we all do what we do out of base animalistic instincts in a sense, as Freud proposed? Maybe it is that I have a resentment against the entire society I find myself a part of. I admit, the idea of contributing to the Gross Domestic Product is slightly unappealing.
Yet every moment awake brings me closer to this person I want to be. Just the will to keep my eyes open, that's enough to prove my intention. Each assignment make me more a student. each jog make me more an athlete. Each character I type makes me more of a writer, the ones I don't look at the keyboard for count extra.
Now to describe my mood...
Awake fits, kinda, busy is what I want to be, contemplative works, determined there's a word for you! Hopeful, but isn't that everyone, all the time, according to Pandora? It would be Optimistic to say I will be Productive, I like that.