I Bleed American
This morning, upon waking, I went to switch my Monday books with my Tuesday books in my backpack and for some reason or another I ended up in a pocket I do not visit often. Inside this pocket I found a DVD that my father handed to me when I went off to college. This DVD was one that my father authored specifically for me. I wish I could say that it contained life lessons that he felt I should know, but it does not. I wish it could say that it was clips of all my friends and family wishing me the best of luck in college, it does not. It does, however, tell me how much my parents care. It is a movie that my father made that consisted of pictures of me throughout the years from my birth up until graduation day. I know they spent hours upon hours working on it while I was at school and work. Now I look at the copy I have and wonder, why is it shattered?
Me being the person I am, I chose to look at it metaphorically. I look at what my life used to be and only see the shattered remains. Whereas my parents can look at it still and see it how they remember it. But they do not know how college has changed me. They do not know how I swore off alcohaul, only to give in from time to time. They do not know how I suffer this year. They cannot begin to see how lost I have become. They can still look at it and see the smiling face that they have known for the past 19 years. I cannot look back on these memories, my memories are shattered.
When I was growing up, I swore off alcohaul and drugs and smoking. I have older siblings and I learned from viewing from afar. I saw what happened with my siblings when they became involved in these ongoings and I knew I wanted nothing to do with it. I stuck to that. I made it clear to everyone too, and that helped more that you will know. Graduation, however, took its toll on me. The day of, I was exposed to my friends drinking for the first time. This happened maybe two or three times over the summer. Come college, though, I am now around it all the time. People drink in the hallways of our dorm from time to time, my neighbors stand outside the door and smoke. I have been to parties where my coat came away stoned. Hard as I try, I cannot find friends that do not partake in these activities. At the beginning of the year I had them, but as time went on I lost them to their own expirmentation. Which in turn led me to my own. However, I prefer to think that I drink with class. I only drink wine and I don't have more than a glass. Fortunately, not many people like wine at all and therefore they do not keep it on hand. I am temped little. Keeps me thinking I am noble or something. We will see how long this lasts.
Suffering comes in far too many forms. It would be nice if we only suffered in a handful of ways, that way we can learn to avoid those few situations. But alas, life is so. Just in an instant I can think of a handful of the predominant ways in which college has made me suffer. For instance, I have hunger. It is a deep hunger that cannot be filled by a single meal, nor a single day of meals, not even a single week of meals. Truth be told, I am poor. I do not have the money to eat all I want and still afford to attend college. Therefore my diet is limited to the "cheap" items upon the menu. Ask anyone who I eat lunch with regularly and they can tell you that my lunch, a lunch of champions, consists of a bowl of fries, a cupcake and a glass of ice water. This does not fill me and I suffer so.
I walk. Wind, shine, stormy weather. There is no other convienent form of transportation on campus. Buses only get you so far, bikes are stored for the winter, jetpacks require a lot of gasoline. So I, along with everyone whos parents did not buy us a moped and or pay for some other form of transportation am limited to the ground. It is true, I have gotten used to it, all the walking that is, but that does not mean I enjoy it at any rate. I am tense when I walk, I do not relax and enjoy what I see, no joy there. In the past few months we have had temperatures increase 80 degrees and are now at a cool 50 degrees. I do not enjoy the thought of that. I have found that shoes without any support are not best for this ammount of walking either. My feet have a soreness that extends into the bone and shows no intention of leaving even with a week of being off my feet. However, life must go on. I have arranged for a slight ease on my transportation for next year. I voyagerai par motorcycle.
I look around as I write this and wonder, "What am I doing here? This has nothing to do with what I want to do with my life. Well, I guess that isn't true...I do not know what I want to do with my life, but seriously...this?" I used to know what I wanted to be and why. That knowledge has since left me and I cannot recall it for the life of me. But this? No I do not want to do this. I am considering just leaving, maybe I will. It is more than just my studies that I do not know anymore. I used to think I knew exactly what I wanted in every aspect of life. I had the job figured out. I knew my car. I knew the kind of girl I wanted to marry where to live with her and how many kids to have. Jobs are limited. Cars from the early 80's are not practical. The girls that I thought I wanted do not exist unless it is to taunt you and no more.
I used to know what I wanted. I used to be warm and transported comfortably. I used to be full. I used to be the model straight-edge. I used to be nutured and cared for. I used to young. I used to be smiling.
Now, now I am not. I do not know what I am, other than going to walk out of a lecture in a second and try to find out. Hope to be able to write again.
Me being the person I am, I chose to look at it metaphorically. I look at what my life used to be and only see the shattered remains. Whereas my parents can look at it still and see it how they remember it. But they do not know how college has changed me. They do not know how I swore off alcohaul, only to give in from time to time. They do not know how I suffer this year. They cannot begin to see how lost I have become. They can still look at it and see the smiling face that they have known for the past 19 years. I cannot look back on these memories, my memories are shattered.
When I was growing up, I swore off alcohaul and drugs and smoking. I have older siblings and I learned from viewing from afar. I saw what happened with my siblings when they became involved in these ongoings and I knew I wanted nothing to do with it. I stuck to that. I made it clear to everyone too, and that helped more that you will know. Graduation, however, took its toll on me. The day of, I was exposed to my friends drinking for the first time. This happened maybe two or three times over the summer. Come college, though, I am now around it all the time. People drink in the hallways of our dorm from time to time, my neighbors stand outside the door and smoke. I have been to parties where my coat came away stoned. Hard as I try, I cannot find friends that do not partake in these activities. At the beginning of the year I had them, but as time went on I lost them to their own expirmentation. Which in turn led me to my own. However, I prefer to think that I drink with class. I only drink wine and I don't have more than a glass. Fortunately, not many people like wine at all and therefore they do not keep it on hand. I am temped little. Keeps me thinking I am noble or something. We will see how long this lasts.
Suffering comes in far too many forms. It would be nice if we only suffered in a handful of ways, that way we can learn to avoid those few situations. But alas, life is so. Just in an instant I can think of a handful of the predominant ways in which college has made me suffer. For instance, I have hunger. It is a deep hunger that cannot be filled by a single meal, nor a single day of meals, not even a single week of meals. Truth be told, I am poor. I do not have the money to eat all I want and still afford to attend college. Therefore my diet is limited to the "cheap" items upon the menu. Ask anyone who I eat lunch with regularly and they can tell you that my lunch, a lunch of champions, consists of a bowl of fries, a cupcake and a glass of ice water. This does not fill me and I suffer so.
I walk. Wind, shine, stormy weather. There is no other convienent form of transportation on campus. Buses only get you so far, bikes are stored for the winter, jetpacks require a lot of gasoline. So I, along with everyone whos parents did not buy us a moped and or pay for some other form of transportation am limited to the ground. It is true, I have gotten used to it, all the walking that is, but that does not mean I enjoy it at any rate. I am tense when I walk, I do not relax and enjoy what I see, no joy there. In the past few months we have had temperatures increase 80 degrees and are now at a cool 50 degrees. I do not enjoy the thought of that. I have found that shoes without any support are not best for this ammount of walking either. My feet have a soreness that extends into the bone and shows no intention of leaving even with a week of being off my feet. However, life must go on. I have arranged for a slight ease on my transportation for next year. I voyagerai par motorcycle.
I look around as I write this and wonder, "What am I doing here? This has nothing to do with what I want to do with my life. Well, I guess that isn't true...I do not know what I want to do with my life, but seriously...this?" I used to know what I wanted to be and why. That knowledge has since left me and I cannot recall it for the life of me. But this? No I do not want to do this. I am considering just leaving, maybe I will. It is more than just my studies that I do not know anymore. I used to think I knew exactly what I wanted in every aspect of life. I had the job figured out. I knew my car. I knew the kind of girl I wanted to marry where to live with her and how many kids to have. Jobs are limited. Cars from the early 80's are not practical. The girls that I thought I wanted do not exist unless it is to taunt you and no more.
I used to know what I wanted. I used to be warm and transported comfortably. I used to be full. I used to be the model straight-edge. I used to be nutured and cared for. I used to young. I used to be smiling.
Now, now I am not. I do not know what I am, other than going to walk out of a lecture in a second and try to find out. Hope to be able to write again.
posted by Danny at 11:06 AM
1 Comments:
Here I was, pining for your first post in almost a MONTH, and you have to get all philosophical, anxious, and Plath-y. I'm sorry you feel this way about college. I thought I was supposed to be the time of your life.
I almost want to cry after your "shattered" metaphor. Deviance from the path is always unwelcome.
Post a Comment
<< Home