Spring break is over now, folks.
I find myself back here, staring into the presaging faces of my various procrastinations, and they tell me they need work. I'm always telling myself that, and I have hope that that conviction will someday outweigh my lofty tendancies towards carefree procrastination. But as of now...
I'm warming up to write a bullshit paper, hence the bullshit. Incidently, I have pipe dreams of being a writer, but I also believe writers are seldomly made and innately exist within an individual, which is convenient if you're a bum like me. Also personal communication in general is not a forte of mine. and, Lord, I was born a ramblin' man...
So a bit about me: I go to college on the east coast, and I readily admit I don't really know why and towards what end. I do so enjoy my education, but am feeling the effects of fiscal guilt for my parents sake (because I am a bum). It helps me be responsible, I guess, but it doesn't provide much direction. Life here is more than a little off from my good ol hometown in the heart of the Old West, and I can easily identify with several of my old friends who have (often guided by hallucinogens) left the collegiate path for the inward path of self-discovery/indulgence. I think it was the whole choose-your-own-adventure lifeplan of expectations aspect that got to them . I know college is all about indulgence, but I wish I'd gotten a scholarship for that (maybe I should've gone to the pacific northwest).
As for the pipe, it was recovered with a minimal dumpster-diving effort.
Sometimes I think I'm not as great as I think I am, but then I realize that that's a logical impossibility.
I find myself back here, staring into the presaging faces of my various procrastinations, and they tell me they need work. I'm always telling myself that, and I have hope that that conviction will someday outweigh my lofty tendancies towards carefree procrastination. But as of now...
I'm warming up to write a bullshit paper, hence the bullshit. Incidently, I have pipe dreams of being a writer, but I also believe writers are seldomly made and innately exist within an individual, which is convenient if you're a bum like me. Also personal communication in general is not a forte of mine. and, Lord, I was born a ramblin' man...
So a bit about me: I go to college on the east coast, and I readily admit I don't really know why and towards what end. I do so enjoy my education, but am feeling the effects of fiscal guilt for my parents sake (because I am a bum). It helps me be responsible, I guess, but it doesn't provide much direction. Life here is more than a little off from my good ol hometown in the heart of the Old West, and I can easily identify with several of my old friends who have (often guided by hallucinogens) left the collegiate path for the inward path of self-discovery/indulgence. I think it was the whole choose-your-own-adventure lifeplan of expectations aspect that got to them . I know college is all about indulgence, but I wish I'd gotten a scholarship for that (maybe I should've gone to the pacific northwest).
As for the pipe, it was recovered with a minimal dumpster-diving effort.
Sometimes I think I'm not as great as I think I am, but then I realize that that's a logical impossibility.