(no subject)
A prayer to the goddess of epic poetry
Though my words and thoughts be imperfect
And my ideas worn and frayed
My purpose is honest and intentions are pure
I ask for your guidance in the trials ahead
for the ability to share that which my mind invisions
From start to finish be with me
and grace me with inspiration
I'm only 18. It seems like such a confusing moment in life to be 18. A legal adult, capable of signing legal contracts, Responsible enough to vote for political candidates, self suffcient enough to pay my own taxes, strong enough to be called into the armed forces.
A college freshman who doesn't know how a washing machine works, An idiot who will sign a contract with a bank because it promises, "free student checking," too lazy to get of my ass and find a poll during mid season elections, cannot find a single word he knows on a W-2, too cowardly to fight an asshole at a bar.
White, male, middle class.
My heritage is so obscure and white that I sometimes claim irish heritage despite the fact that I've got about a 1/16th of it in my blood and I don't know a single person from Ireland.
You will never see a white heritage month or a mens rights rally.
I've got no religion
I've had nothing to define me throughout my life and I have failed to define myself so far.
I'm lost in obscurity.
I don't know what I want to do
Or maybe I know what I want to do but I'm just too apathetic to do it.
I've had no story line, just series of events that happend to me.
But it all ends today.