I’m not really tired and I’m sober as a bird and its 2:30 in the morning and I have a 9 o’clock class tomorrow that I have skipped four times in a row, so naturally I’m sitting at my desk in my strangely quiet room wondering about life and the mysteries that come entangled with it. I don’t really know what to write about, but then again I never do. But dig children, here’s the thing, I’m so curious about life but haven’t been chasing those little wonders enough, so I feel closed off and mean and whiny. And that my friends, is no way to live.
It so very easy to be afraid of life. It’s so easy to live in fear of disappointment and failure. It’s easy to think the worst and be mad and sad about things when things aren’t necessarily the way I want them. But things are never the way I really want them, so my curiosity just grows and since I do nothing to satisfy it, I just sit and pout about girls and boredom. I get kind of sick of myself. I get sick of the feeling of wanting and not having and blah blah blah.
Now if I really wanted t grab your attention, I would come up with something new. I suppose I’ve beaten this to death and if I really want to impress anyone, I should get a little more on top of my game. I worry about my audience being stolen from me, but I’m not doing the things that gained me an audience in the first place. If I want to win a heart, I have to do it in the way that works. Nobody wants to listen to somebody just plainly whine about all of their little woes. You want to be inspired and enlightened and I’m sorry. I am, but I’m getting myself out of the darkness. This year was my dark one, well this year plus some extra months here and there. I let myself fall t see just how far I can go, and let me tell you, it’s pretty low.
However, there can be a light. I promise there is and I will show it through something. I’ll write something good. I’ll write something worth reading. I hope. I’d like to at least. Do something worth doing, which I suppose we’d all like to do. If you go, I’ll live I’m sure. If you go, then so shall I. But that doesn’t change the want and I know that is how it is because I made it that way and I like it. Occupational hazard, my dear.