Making my way, every day; Walking the road, bearing the load. Making it a little, but not all alone; Starting a life, getting it going.


























 
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Just a man, pausing in his daily walk to ponder.



























A New Thoughtful Spot
 
Saturday, August 31, 2002  
Well now, two posts in a month. I must be almost slipping back into something like a pattern. And it's too bad that everytime I feel the urge to write, everything in my mind is so damned dreary. Maybe it's the constant questioning - of myself, and everything. I can't seem to do anything without cross-checking my motives until I'm absolutely sick, and so, nothing ever gets done. I just think too much. I think about my life - have I wasted it all so far? Did I really accomplish anything? Am I overlooking everything good, in the face of a little unhappiness? Did I miss the point somewhere? Or, did I just miss a memo that eveyone else got? I shoud be something resembling content - I just started graduate school, and it seems that my professors at least concede that I'm worthy of what I've been given: which is to say that I deserve to get my MA on the university's tab, living expenses included. I should be proud, at least of that. And here I sit, so depressed I could curl up and die. It's an odd feeling, being totally cut-off from my peers. This utter isolation is getting to me. It seems as if I just don't mesh with anyone my own age, or for that matter, much of anyone at all. Why then do I so desperately want to? Apparently, I wasn't "built" to be a loner, and yet it seems immpossible that I can be anything otherwise. I tend to think I'm missing some vital component that would let me be a part of something bigger than myself. The only thing I truly fear is that I will stay what I am. Yet how does one break out of the shell formed about him, win the public eye - even the public heart - and retain his true identity? Is the prize for winning the relationship game worht the cost and sacrifice of getting it? I've personally had enough of games, of playing, of "putting on a show." If I must put on a show to be accepted, how then can I be accepted? Why must I be someone I am not, cannot be, just because other people are too...something to give me a chance as who I am? Who is anyone else to say that I - as myself - am not worthy of their company or time? Who are they to judge me, without any knowledge of me, and why does everyone insist on doing just such a thing? Is it honestly impossible for young adults to see beneath the surface, past the shallowness of human eyes, to what lies beneath - and what truly matters? I must hope not, for no man can ever be truly lost, if he yet holds out hope. And so hops I must, or concede defeat.
2:43 AM

 
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