im anemic royalty...
while walking in the cold toward the doors of williams dormatory i pondered this thought: am i doomed to spend the rest of my creative life here? in this cell with unhappy walls and uncharming persona, i feel like its perfect because i am only a shell lately, havent actually done anything remotely expressive in the last year with the exception of this. this saddens me , this makes me afraid for the future, for since i have been able to express myself creatively it has been my only outlet, and now with so much feeling and an abundance of thoughts swirling around inside my head i have no way of getting them out. am i just awaiting a larger breakdown? considering the calvinism of myself i think "maybe God has me dying soon!" this i hope is only a thought and far from truth. yet still i feel as if i am awaiting some impending "thing" to happen to me that is in my eyes not considerably good. hmm..maybe im just that old christmas present that you bought for a relative, only they died before christmas and since i was so significant to begin with because im only socks or a pez dispenser, i just sit at the back of your closet, being worn and tattered, covered in dust awaiting and begging for discovery. what will happen when i am found? tossed out or held on to for my sentimental value? neither of them do i wish upon anyone. then i ask the question "who is afraid of failure?" *me*<-----that guy is! terrified!