So, a few days, maybe a week ago, there was a Myspace survey. It asked some stupid question to which my answer was something to the affect of "I've never hated anything more before or after those two years." So, I must have lied...I hate hate hate. This. I can't say what this is, so this blog is going to have to be like a Maynard song, in which the meanings will seem angry, bitter, painful and obvious, yet you still have no idea what I'm talking about.
I was thinking today that if anyone asked me why I looked so damn happy or how my day was going...that I would skip away from them giggling and singing "tra la la la la, oh how fun it is, oh how happy I am." I know that it seems trite...but I feel like I shouldn't be asking the world for anything, I should pay more attention to something besides my own skin...but I've got this scab, you see...and it's eating me from the inside out. I'm a little worried about it.
Though I am working as fast as I can to absorb, stay focused, consume ideas, and make something I think will be special, fun, fantastic, and really make me happy; I'm still worried that this will consume me...kill my spirit, take my soul to places I don't want it to see, and kill my dreams.
Oh, God make me bigger so that I may not be consumed so quickly. Make me who I am supposed to be so that I may be happy instead of pursuing infinatly. I want to give all that I recieve away that I may be whole. What little I have is yours, so that I may have it all. I'm fighting a battle with the greatest monster of all. 110% of everything I am made of, I will devote to making my skin wonderful to live in. 110% of every atom of my being from birth to now, I will suck dry for inspiration to keep moving forward, finish first, not just average, not just above average, but first. On my own merit. I want that future. Not this.
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