*sigh*
I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
to hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
do I stay or run away
and leave it all behind?
Why not leave it all behind? More and more I feel shackled, like somehow, something is keeping me from being free. Yet at the same time, I probably have more independence now than I ever have before. Maybe I'm just a whiny bitch and have a small case of cabin fever.... maybe I have something of extraordinary genius to offer the world and I'm too scared to let it out. Maybe I'm scared that if I try to change the world for the better and fail, then my faith in humanity will be totally lost.
Corey becomes aware anyone reading what he's writing now doesn't have a damn clue what he's talking about
When I was in high school the adults around me told me that those would be the best years of my life. While my high school career was fun and I felt like I ruled the school, the notion that it would be the best time in my life frightened me. Of course now that I'm in college, I have to wonder:
Are these the best years of my life?
My first inclination when asking myself this question is "Good God I hope not" Again, not to say that college hasn't been a good time, because it has. But if I look back on my life when I'm 75 and say "Damn those were the best years of my life," then I will have been a huge failure and might not as well have lived so long to begin with. What good is a long life without any sort of purpose or meaningful impact on the world? Do I really want to have a 9-5 job for the next 40 years and then at my retirement party say "Well, it's been a hell of a run, but I gotta say the best time of my life has been without a doubt getting drunk and (poorly) singing "Scotty Doesn't Know" If that's how it ends, Lord, take me now in my prime.
Maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. I could just as easily say that my life has been getting exponentially better since about the time I turned 16. I find it strangely funny that if you trace most of my happiness back, it all leads back to a cold night in February when the old man came home drunk and slugged me one. More accurately, maybe my happiness stems from the only subsequent beating I have given someone that is 6'2'' and three times my body weight. Funny how life works.
I'm rambling. I guess that's ok though. This journal is for me, I just leave it lying around for you in case you ever wanted to pick it up and peer into my head a little and see that I have thoughts and feelings that extend beyond SNL references, too.
-C.W. Spring
I'm a brand new sky
to hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
do I stay or run away
and leave it all behind?
Why not leave it all behind? More and more I feel shackled, like somehow, something is keeping me from being free. Yet at the same time, I probably have more independence now than I ever have before. Maybe I'm just a whiny bitch and have a small case of cabin fever.... maybe I have something of extraordinary genius to offer the world and I'm too scared to let it out. Maybe I'm scared that if I try to change the world for the better and fail, then my faith in humanity will be totally lost.
Corey becomes aware anyone reading what he's writing now doesn't have a damn clue what he's talking about
When I was in high school the adults around me told me that those would be the best years of my life. While my high school career was fun and I felt like I ruled the school, the notion that it would be the best time in my life frightened me. Of course now that I'm in college, I have to wonder:
Are these the best years of my life?
My first inclination when asking myself this question is "Good God I hope not" Again, not to say that college hasn't been a good time, because it has. But if I look back on my life when I'm 75 and say "Damn those were the best years of my life," then I will have been a huge failure and might not as well have lived so long to begin with. What good is a long life without any sort of purpose or meaningful impact on the world? Do I really want to have a 9-5 job for the next 40 years and then at my retirement party say "Well, it's been a hell of a run, but I gotta say the best time of my life has been without a doubt getting drunk and (poorly) singing "Scotty Doesn't Know" If that's how it ends, Lord, take me now in my prime.
Maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. I could just as easily say that my life has been getting exponentially better since about the time I turned 16. I find it strangely funny that if you trace most of my happiness back, it all leads back to a cold night in February when the old man came home drunk and slugged me one. More accurately, maybe my happiness stems from the only subsequent beating I have given someone that is 6'2'' and three times my body weight. Funny how life works.
I'm rambling. I guess that's ok though. This journal is for me, I just leave it lying around for you in case you ever wanted to pick it up and peer into my head a little and see that I have thoughts and feelings that extend beyond SNL references, too.
-C.W. Spring
