Mortality is so cliché
I've been suspicious of my own mind lately: Why I want the things I want, why I disregard the things I disregard. Why I hold certain things in contempt. When I step back and try to take it all in, holistically, it just seems incongruent.
I suppose the summer has given me too much time to think. On the bright side, I've been reading more Bukowski, more TS Eliot. More Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Sometimes it inspires me, other times it kills me. I've already done away with the titan of expectation, now I'm wondering if the next head I'll have to put on the chopping block is that of aspiration.
I suppose the summer has given me too much time to think. On the bright side, I've been reading more Bukowski, more TS Eliot. More Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Sometimes it inspires me, other times it kills me. I've already done away with the titan of expectation, now I'm wondering if the next head I'll have to put on the chopping block is that of aspiration.