Summer Skin

The summer is ending. Maybe it already ended. I know it did for a few people; soon, for a few more. I feel like reflecting.

Part of me wants to believe that none of us are really cut out for college the way we think we should be. Often times, I think that the people who were meant to go to college are the people who realize that it's a scam, but a scam that is in our best interest to participate in. Granted, sometimes I learn things, and of course, I love to learn things. Even so, I feel like I'm jumping through hoops to get a piece of paper that says I know the things I know. No one wants to take my word for it.

But life is a journey, I guess.

I realized I'm a sophmore in college the other day. I'm one step closer to completing the next step, but I still have no idea what my next move should be. I don't really have ambitions. I just want to be happy, and I have no idea how to get to that point from here. Its not hard to get to happiness, but it is hard, I think, to get to happiness comfortably. I've considered law school. We'll see how well that works out in a year or two. Honestly, I don't like talking about my goals too much, because I always feel like they are lofty, but attainable, and it seems like someone usually has something to say about them. Generally something negative. Generally something mildly discouraging.

Money is becoming more and more of an issue. I think I'm safe, momentarily. Its sort of discouraging, how much of what we do is determined by money and material. Honestly, it confuses the fuck out of me. I recognize all this stuff is just junk, polished up to look nice and make me want it. The thing that bothers me is that it seems to be working. I do want nice things. Not competitively... or at least not openly competatively. I think it might be okay that I want nice things, and I want to throw my money into the pit, so long as I promise myself to keep my feet on the ground. These dead presidents will never represent me. My stature can't be measured by these leather seats.

I spend a lot of time trying to make myself invincible.

I can't help but think about how, in a couple of weeks, I'm going to start missing people. But life is so much better when those people come back for a weekend.

One of my friends wants to play music. He wants to play songs like The Desaparecidos would play, but with more breakdowns, maybe. I could get behind that. Hopefully, two more of my friends are interested in that as well. We'll see. I could justify cleaning out a garage for this. We're just waiting for junk day now.

Cross your fingers. Hold your breath. Do what you do.
Here comes the cold water.