I've been avoiding blogging for some time. There's a part of me that doesn't want to share my inner thoughts, but I really have no other outlet. This past weekend was interesting, I met a bunch of people, partied with some of the japanese program kids, raved with some con goers, and didn't kill myself on the highway. I also finally found all of my old writing in my attic, which was rewarding. I also found an excellent book which I need to circulate, Feed.
I suppose I've been avoiding blogging because I don't really know what to say. Should I go into the dark, grimy details or should I keep it consistent with the person that everyone thinks that I am, that is a good question. I certainly don't want a wave of 'sympathy', so I'll keep my malcontents to myself. I feel like I am in the center of a circus, watching it form and change around me, yet I am not part of it's contents. I watch as things blossom and die in one continuous cycle, over and over again. The insanity of it all... I can't really describe. I am really growing quite disgusted with the occurrences in my life at the moment. If I wasn't already so lonely, I would probably pull away, but I perceive no choice in the matter. Since I can't find the heart to be ruder to the people that I perceive lies or hurt from, I'll just watch it build up into a head and then dissipate on its own. I suppose in time all will be well again. I only wish I had the courage to take the time for myself, to heal my hurts and find myself. There are days when I truly wish I was not here in Findlay. I want to be following my passion, even if it is perceived to be less than other majors. I feel like I'm lying to myself, and making myself stay here in order to not let anyone down. I would rather be taking mechanics classes in fort wayne ivy tech than dragging myself through gen. ed's here. I can't tell if this unhappiness is because of where I am, or just who I've been talking to. The mind is fickle like that, all I can perceive is the unhappiness, not immediately it's source. I will never know the source until I cut that source off, but once I leave Findlay I can't come back. I do not know the answer right now, I just know that it is out there.
Bah I have rambled again, damn it. I feel like I should be posting poetry or something other than my own depression and problems. Then again, who really gives a shit at the end of the day? This represents how a college student is feeling in one hour of one day, how set in stone can it really be?
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