31 October 2011

November 1, 2011

I’m sitting outside on the UTD campus, these green-rubber-covered tables with the irrigation holes so water won’t puddle, a slot for an umbrella that isn’t installed right now. It’s 72 degrees, the universally accepted perfect temperature. People are walking places, wearing hoodies, skinny jeans. College students. Mostly it feels empty here, though. This is the time of day when people like me come. People with jobs.

I like campus. Kids are optimistic. Everyone thinks they’re going places, everyone knows what’s coming next. We’re all checking off boxes on our degree plans. I never realized how optimistic college is until I left and came back.

I watched madmen for three hours today, then I swore off television for the rest of my life.

Inspiration is a sham. Everyone just has to plug away, do the work they want to do, hate it, try again, hate it, try again. That’s what I tell myself anyway. I have no idea what it’s like for other people. I’ve probably written this before. Sometimes it feels like I’m only ever writing letters to myself.

I bought a bag Saturday. I thought it was new, but then I noticed initials on the inside, FGU. Why would someone initial the inside of a bag?

And please don’t mistake my questions for clarity. Don’t mistake my rebellion for freedom.

 

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