Omega I

You know, if Brittany had stronger vocals, i'ld say her song "Everytime" was pretty good. But then again, that's probably because it's almost entirely like Janet Jackson's "Everytime" from a few years ago. And they're both naked in a tub of water in their videos. I think directors are running out of ideas.

Well it's over. 20 months straight of school, and finally i can take a break. It didn't end with a bang, but with a thud; the combined resonance of my pen hitting the desk and my confidence hitting the floor. Lesson learned, i suppose. How dear I assume that doing every single question offered to us for practice, tutorial and otherwise, twice, 3 times, and some even four times, how dear I assume that was enough?

Everything looks so far away now. Goals seem less easily attainable.

Life is a lot like love I find. With love, I find that it's lost once you utter its name. With life, I find that once you feel you have a firm grip on it, it slips through your fingers. Neither life nor love are yours to control, all you can do is try to play with them.

I was just thinking. I do everything to make someone proud of me. What have I done to make me proud of myself? The mere fact that I pose that question is sad enough, who needs an answer?

Anyway, Viva Summer.

T-21

For the next 21 days it will be all about studying, exams, and work. I must refuse to blog or partake in any distractions from the previous three tasks. The only exceptions to this were pre-planned and have been accounted for. I have nothing to say of school, it's time for action. I have nothing to say of myself, for my last few bogs have been introspective enough, and as my last suggest, who gives a damn anyway?

I got an idea for a book the other day. I was going to call it, False Dichotemy. Sort of a look at the greatest False Dichotemies to impact the minds of mankind, both positively and negatively. The idea would be heavily philosophical though. There's limited demand for the subject matter, it would never get published. So there's obvious work to be done.
That's all for now. April 30th will be the first day of the rest of my life! Until then.

Empty Slate

I'm exausted. School is done. Technically only classes have finished, the studying is yet to begin. I have about 20 days to prove that I am indeed a metaphysician, and 27 days to prove that I am an advanced microeconomist. I'm hardly going to have to put the same degree of effort into my other 2 courses. By May I will be finished 12/20th of my undergraduate degree. This summer is going to be a well-anticipated break.

I lost part of my soul. I lost it awhile ago, but I've become aware of it just lately. The freeflowing artistic side of me is lost. I can't find the cap to my pen, and for some reason that frustrates me to no end. I don't dream like I used to, these days I just visualize. Every now and then my mind will play out a completely unexpected scenario between me and my friends - the other day i think a bunch of us went ice fishing or something - but that seems to be the extent of my imagination. I remember when I was younger, the world had so many different colours. Now everything looks the same. I should start wearing shades; then maybe I'd have an excuse for failing to see beauty in the world. I might as well be watching my life on an old black and white television. Even then there would be a sharp and obvious contrast between images. My vision is even more drab: an even blend of dreary colours, a smeered blur of reality, not unlike pencil shavings smudged againsts a dark wooden table.

Lately I've been reading words in books and on sheets and just getting them wrong. I was scared that maybe I had a small form of dyslexia. My eyes would pass over words like, i dunno, quota, and I'd read quato. I hope that I'm just really tired, and that I don't have an illness. I can't paint, play the piano, sing or dance terribly well. I only ask that I be left alone with my capacity for word manipulation.

Left alone is the operative phrase. I'm not really sure who gives a damn about what I have to say. I'm not even sure if I do anymore. I've been busy lately. But that's only part of the reason why I don't blog as much. It has mostly been because I haven't had much to say. Correction, I haven't had anything important to say. A lifetime goal of mine is to produce a literary work of great impact. I haven't decided what it's going to be about yet, and i'm never going to be able to decide if I don't get over thinking that what I have to say is unimportant. My closest friends often come to me in times of frustration, not for advice, but for some perspective. Advice would necessarily involve experience, and I know nothing of how to be a girl. Regardless, I'm the guy to talk to in times of need. One would think then that what I have to say has some merit. But at the end of the day what I have to say is hardly important, the words are lost in time. My words reduce to nothing more then the temporary feelings they offer; the laughter they envoke, or my compassion and simpathy. I often find myself saying, "I told you that, remember?" Unless what I said was in the form of an anecdote, I often find myself hearing, "Naw, i swear you never said that" in response. The words are lost in time.

Perhaps that is why I enjoy philosophy classes. They give me an outlet to take a situation, and with nothing but my words, I offer my perspective, and generally, my ideas are valued. And maybe that is why I ever blog at all, and maybe that's why I want to write a book; so that my words won't be lost in time for good.