I guess its time. I've been staying up reading the Never Ending Story. The translation isn't the best (Who knew it was origionally sritten in German! I love Germany and want to go back there some day, but I digress) but it's still a good book, better than the movie. If they ever, If I ever, make a movie of it again it should be in german with subtitles and have the Fantasia scenes be clay animated. If I don't direct it Jim Jaramouch should.
Other than that I've been working. Today I became paranoid that after graduation I'd be stuck doing day care forever and grow to hate it like most grown ups hate their job. Or that I'd turn into a jaded stripper working in Springfiel OR after the age of fifty and never be able to retire. I've started dancing again btw. I'm at a good club which is nice and I'm actually saving most of my funds - I need to pay off those loans. It would also be nice to start a house and retirement fund so I can healthely retire from all forms of "work" by age 35 and own a house and do stuff I actually want to do.
I used to keep a journal in higschool because I had no friends that I trusted. In collage I met some people and eventually the journaling slid away. this entry feels a bilt like those old highschool entries. I can't beleave I'm posting this on the internet. This is silly - absolutely. Don't mock my existential crisis if you can help it (if that's what this is), I'm rather amused actually and I've stopped caring wheather or not I'm making sense - so long as all my works are spelled corectly it doesn'ty matter what I say, they'll publish it, they'll buy it, once I give it enough glamour and kitchy delight. We won't even have to think anymore. Damn this does sound like highschool, mopy, gloomy - you'd think I was lost in the swamps of sadness. But I do not intend to find Morla the Aged One, my quest turns out to be spectacular and intruiging in its own way, but that is a story for another time.
Listen
It's passed for the moment but the worry is still nagging at the back of my neck somewhere.
Other than that I've been working. Today I became paranoid that after graduation I'd be stuck doing day care forever and grow to hate it like most grown ups hate their job. Or that I'd turn into a jaded stripper working in Springfiel OR after the age of fifty and never be able to retire. I've started dancing again btw. I'm at a good club which is nice and I'm actually saving most of my funds - I need to pay off those loans. It would also be nice to start a house and retirement fund so I can healthely retire from all forms of "work" by age 35 and own a house and do stuff I actually want to do.
I used to keep a journal in higschool because I had no friends that I trusted. In collage I met some people and eventually the journaling slid away. this entry feels a bilt like those old highschool entries. I can't beleave I'm posting this on the internet. This is silly - absolutely. Don't mock my existential crisis if you can help it (if that's what this is), I'm rather amused actually and I've stopped caring wheather or not I'm making sense - so long as all my works are spelled corectly it doesn'ty matter what I say, they'll publish it, they'll buy it, once I give it enough glamour and kitchy delight. We won't even have to think anymore. Damn this does sound like highschool, mopy, gloomy - you'd think I was lost in the swamps of sadness. But I do not intend to find Morla the Aged One, my quest turns out to be spectacular and intruiging in its own way, but that is a story for another time.
Listen
It's passed for the moment but the worry is still nagging at the back of my neck somewhere.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
henjin0:
dance your cares away, save your worries for another day.... 
demoivre:
'Glamour and kitchy delight' seem to be the only things selling these days. I think you hit the nail right on the head!