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| Ever have on of those moments. What I like to call the "Indiscribable Whatthefuck?" I am 23. I have two degrees. I am still waiting tables. I want to move to chicago, I can't find anyone to go with, or the finacial means to support myself there. I want a real job, 9-5, 32k+ a year, I lack the degrees to get it. The only thing right in my life right now is that I am in Love with a amazing girl, but if I can't get a decent job or even pursue my dreams, how can I ever support her. Sometimes I feel like all I can do is close my eyes and click my heels,
I need a job I don't hate.I need a job I dont hate.I need a job I dont hate.
Do you know who embarassed I am everytime I have to answer coworkers questions. How old are you? 23. Why are you in Indiana? I went to school at Anderson. Oh are you still there? I graduated. With what? A degree in History and a degree in Theatre Studies.
(invaribly the conversation takes one of two paths here)
What are you gonna do with those? I don't know or
Why are you still here? I don't know
answers that hurt to give everytime, I hate not knowing. | | |
|  | Currently Listening
Rent (1996 Original Broadway Cast)
By Jonathan Larson, Jeff Potter, Anthony Jackson, Daniel A. Weiss, Ira Siegel, Kenny Brescia, Steve Skinner, Adam Pascal, Aiko Nakasone, Anthony Rapp, Byron Utley, Daphne Rubin-Vega, Fredi Walker, Gilles Chiasson, Gwen Stewart, Idina Menzel, Jesse L. Martin, Kristen Lee Kelly, Rodney Hicks, Stevie Wonder, Taye Diggs, Timothy Britten Parker, Wilson Jermaine Heredia
see related |
I stand outside. In the Cold, looking up. The stars spread out above me, the leafless trees obstructing my view enough to add depth to a seemingly endless void. And in this moment I experience peace. In the vastness of infinity I see myself. I see the insignificance of my being, but in seeing my insignificance against the backdrop of forever, I see the significance of my existance. So meticulously created, placed, guided. A grain of sand against a infinite ocean. A placement defined by a moment. And in this I believe I find my purpose. The Moment. To Experience, to Affect, to Live, to Laugh, to Cry, to Change, to Move, to Take Action. If I allow life to pass without experienceing emotion, without trying to affect other people, without takeing a risk, I gain nothing, I offer nothing, I provide no thanks for what I have been given.
I wont be afraid to laugh, I won't be afraid to run, I won't be afraid to chase, I won't be afraid to cry, I won't be afraid to get hurt. I won't say "No, I have a plan for the future." I will take what comes, I will experience, because tommorrow is not gauranteed... but right now is.
Carpe Momento | | |
| I am in a unique position... one where my past haunts me, the choices I've made both for the good and bad.
I struggle to move forward, to defeat this feeling of emptiness that lingers, yet in this emptiness I experience freedom. Outside of the emptiness I feel chained by regret, and memories of what could have been, what should have been, what was never meant to be.
For months I have moved as if in a fog, life and time marching on, with me standing still. A haze of isolation with a obscured view of the past, and a slight glimpse of the future... if only I could bring myself to take a step, I know this haze would lift... yet... its so comfortable here. | | |
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A wind from the west crosses plains and deserts, forests and lakes. The leaves of seasons past dance in it's wake. The trees bow in it's presence. The water moves to allow it's passage. The sand marks it's path. A moutain stands in it's way. A sheer cliff, the wind rushes up its height pouring over the edge and hits a man in the face. A man standing alone, his hair stirring as he ignores the passage of the wind. The wind continues on it's way, undisturbed, but the man remains, staring out over the chasm below. His dark eyes, glassed over, he takes in the seemingly infinite nothing. His hair and his jacket still move gently in the aftermath of the wind's passing. He wipes his hands on his jeans and turns to watch the departure of the wind on it's never ending journey. Foot prints lead up to where he stands, blurred by the wind's passage, but there all the same. He thinks on the path that brought him here, blurred faces, lost names, broken hearts, and empty words traverse his mind intertwined with ringing laughs, good cries, fond looks, and inspiring moments. The good and the bad war with each other for dominance of his mind, a swirling choas of noise. Both soon settle into a rythm each off-setting the other, a symphony of memory, the pleasent with the disappointing. The man feels himself beginning to lift his feet to walk back along those same prints he left, to travel back, to relive what was. Then, as so many times before he finds strength within himself and turns back toward the chasm. A deep breath. The man pitches himself over the edge, his hair flying out behind him. The wind screams in his ears, ripping at his mind. The wind screams of things that once were. The wind screams about lost love and lost oppertunities. The wind screams about the things that could have been. The fall will not end. The man prays for it to stop, the fall and the screaming. As the wind screams, tearing at his mind, his eye's begin to water. He remembers, he remembers and then suddenly his eyes dry, his face hardens, his fall becomes more delibrate and he screams back at the wind. A man stands at the bottom of a chasm. no way backwards, only a long gleaming path before him. He looks out over the mountains, deserts, lakes, and forests. He listens for the wind and finds it silent. Nodding to himself he begins the journey forward, and behind him footprints mark his passage.
From Chasm & Wind by Steve Pierce | | |
| Well. I am bored at the moment, simple truth. So I thought why not start a BLOG. So this is it.... good times. Action-packed it would seem. Dont worry I promise there will be cool stuff on here one day. | | |
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