THIS IS ABOUT TAKING CHANCES

I've been at Rowan for the last four years of my life and I've realized one thing. I need to get the fuck out of here before I wind up killing myself. I just need to graduate. It was cool the first two years but then after that it lost it's allure. Life here is monotonous. I hate that. I want to be able to wake every morning and teach or do something different. I want to travel, but everyone wants to travel. I don't just want to travel, I want to be the Kit Carson of the world. I want to blaze trails and know more about living than anyone else. Now here's the ultimate question: Is that really living? I'm not 100% sure but it's something different then what I'm doing right now. For those of you that don't know who Kit Carson is, don't Wikipedia it. Pick up a book and read about it.

Anyway, me and the cracker have been talking about stepping out and doing something much more full-filling then the normal mental masturbation that has binded us to our everyday lives. We want to hopefully do some volunteer work in foreign countries and get a feel for what we've been missing while helping other people then ourselves. I want to be able to say that I went out of my way in order to help someone without asking or expecting anything in return. I know just saying that makes it seem like I'm seeking self gratification and praise from other individuals for doing something like that. I don't really care. It's like when you're a kid and you dreamed to be a superhero. But it's moved into my adult life. I don't want to be a superhero per say but I want to do something important. I want to run into a burning building and save a few people and walk away and have it mentioned in the paper the next day that an unknown individual saved some woman or man or child. I want to put all of it on the line for someone else without expecting anything in return. I don't want to be selfish. I guess what this is really all about is taking chances.

Exanimate

Everyday passes with no accord; we share the light and process the adaptation, maybe we can step forward, from the bottom we burrow, and sink, and decompose. Fall deep into the shadow, and fear the comfort lost when you’re still part of your skin. Ignore, Ignore, Ignore, in massive migrations we burrow to the center, to the center of the hollow earth. Now we’ve seen the glass ceiling, now we know what we cannot obtain, and hearts grow weaker, and breaths grow fainter, all that is understood has been worn from these pages.