This is about frustration, contemplation, and letting go of the very thing you've grasped for a long time. I feel like I am leaving. I still have a semester to go, but I am walking towards that door. I am already being put in the done bin, I can feel it. It's a good and bad thing. Once I go through the door I might not ever step back through it again.
Frankly, I am at one of the most successful moments of my life so far, why do I feel as if I have lost so much in the process of getting here? Give and take? I read some poems and writings from earlier on in college. It seemed like I was more content (in the strangest way-though I know I wasn't). Maybe its because I had more time? I was poetic, and creative in ways I am not now. Maybe my perspective is skewed. Maybe I just haven't backed up far enough to see just how creative I really am. I listen to Quilisma, my musical effort and wonder how I created these things in the first place and why what I am doing now isn't working? I might be hard on myself. A little too hard on myself. Somehow it fuels what I am best at. Sometimes it destroys me.
Progress isn't point to point, there aren't any straight lines. I know this. It seems like parts are missing. Fears replace them. I am too scared of something to be able to express other things. Work over heart, procrastination over mind, nothing but myself to blame. My dad says 'work smarter not harder' I think my mind is a converse of this statement. This endless pit called the brain. Its sad and wonderful in the strangest way.
What they don't tell you is that being good at something makes you sweat blood, and give up parts of yourself, like time and etc. No one tells you that its going to be easy. No one tells you that you trade your moments of joy for text on page and ideas that make your brain want to bleed. That all the work for grad school might in fact not make you as happy as you should be. You cope, you have goals you have to reach them...
I am not sure anyone is supposed to give you the instruction sheet. Everything is a blank page, from the moment you begin to think and breathe on your own you must start to construct the beauty that will be represented on that page. I think Ive made the most beautiful sunset so far. I have these dreams with red skies, sunsets.
I have no idea what this means other than my opening statement. So much. good. growth. etc. I just need to see it, confirm it.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
11:59 PM - Release me.

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