It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity...
...is roughly how I feel about life right now.
My sholder aches every time I reach for something, my ankle still bloody hurts, I'm failing my courses,
....yet I'm still meeting new people, building stronger relationships with those I already know, enjoying life, perhaps even growing up a little, and I'm sure as hell learning things.
Case in point-I'm sitting in the library, 3 am, and I'm still re-writing an essay that was due 3ish weeks ago. One side of the coin: I'm a terrible student, condemned to 3 weeks of this if I can even try and pass some of my courses...
...the other side is that well I was here, I also started writing again, talked to four of my best friends (counting three family members), emailed some important shit to those who might be able to do some good with it, and have listened to some great music.
Sweet Home Alabama just came up on i-tunes as I thought of the advice my Dad gave me. He told me that although may be covered in shit right now, I might as well start washing the shit off of me, taking on little holes at a time. I find it strangely appropriate that he said 'little holes' of shit, cause that is exactly how I feel sometimes. Like I'm covered in little holes of shit, and everytime I make the choice to do the right thing, one of them washes off, and gets filled by the character I've always known is inside of me.
Sometimes you've got to remember where you came from, understand your own limitations, deal with the real-politik of your own soul, and realize that we've all got our own 'Sweet Home Alabama,' and there is no shame to sometimes admit that the big bad world of our young 20s forces a retreat to the souls of our childhood.
Speaking of childhood, I miss teaching kids. I miss herding a bnuch of brave little uns out of the freezing cold, finally answering their small-voiced pleas of 'can we go in? My toes are burning.,' with the warmth of the lodge, and hot chocolate in their little hands.
I also miss being outside, feeling the wind on my face, the earth (or water) beneath my body, listening to the sweet sounds of Mother Nature, harsh chortlings of winter, stern, unyielding voice of the Old Man of the Sea.
Well, it is 3 am, I think I'll walk slowly back to my apartment, check whether I've got physio tomorrow, and remind my soul of a couple of things:
"don't let your schooling get in the way of your education"- Mark Twain
Something I've been telling a lot of people lately, but I don't think it has penetrated the maelstrom of my own subconscious, and integrated itself with the automoton which runs melife quite yet....but its about time, I go back to school, and remember that I'm really there for an education, so stress is basically a waste of time
what else do I need to remind myself?
life is beautiful, never hesitate to dive right in, remeber to come up for air, grab a tan on the rock but don't let the harsh sun of societal expectations sunburn your dreams.
god, it feels good to write again.
(self-critically evaluates the sheer incoherentness of above text)
It doesnt matter, not to me, not to anyone who happens to stumble upon this, the important is that somewhere, in that inpenetratable section of my brain that I can never quite figure out, the part that makes me feel tounge-tied, that gives me an addiction to 20-knot breezes, that tells me to tuck down the mountian, to write, just keep writing, the part that keeps me going 'in times of trouble', the part that picks up the song, makes it my mind, that picks up my mind and makes it my body, the part that makes my mouth communicate my soul to other, the part that makes us all human inside.
It is happier that I wrote. And so it ends.
...is roughly how I feel about life right now.
My sholder aches every time I reach for something, my ankle still bloody hurts, I'm failing my courses,
....yet I'm still meeting new people, building stronger relationships with those I already know, enjoying life, perhaps even growing up a little, and I'm sure as hell learning things.
Case in point-I'm sitting in the library, 3 am, and I'm still re-writing an essay that was due 3ish weeks ago. One side of the coin: I'm a terrible student, condemned to 3 weeks of this if I can even try and pass some of my courses...
...the other side is that well I was here, I also started writing again, talked to four of my best friends (counting three family members), emailed some important shit to those who might be able to do some good with it, and have listened to some great music.
Sweet Home Alabama just came up on i-tunes as I thought of the advice my Dad gave me. He told me that although may be covered in shit right now, I might as well start washing the shit off of me, taking on little holes at a time. I find it strangely appropriate that he said 'little holes' of shit, cause that is exactly how I feel sometimes. Like I'm covered in little holes of shit, and everytime I make the choice to do the right thing, one of them washes off, and gets filled by the character I've always known is inside of me.
Sometimes you've got to remember where you came from, understand your own limitations, deal with the real-politik of your own soul, and realize that we've all got our own 'Sweet Home Alabama,' and there is no shame to sometimes admit that the big bad world of our young 20s forces a retreat to the souls of our childhood.
Speaking of childhood, I miss teaching kids. I miss herding a bnuch of brave little uns out of the freezing cold, finally answering their small-voiced pleas of 'can we go in? My toes are burning.,' with the warmth of the lodge, and hot chocolate in their little hands.
I also miss being outside, feeling the wind on my face, the earth (or water) beneath my body, listening to the sweet sounds of Mother Nature, harsh chortlings of winter, stern, unyielding voice of the Old Man of the Sea.
Well, it is 3 am, I think I'll walk slowly back to my apartment, check whether I've got physio tomorrow, and remind my soul of a couple of things:
"don't let your schooling get in the way of your education"- Mark Twain
Something I've been telling a lot of people lately, but I don't think it has penetrated the maelstrom of my own subconscious, and integrated itself with the automoton which runs melife quite yet....but its about time, I go back to school, and remember that I'm really there for an education, so stress is basically a waste of time
what else do I need to remind myself?
life is beautiful, never hesitate to dive right in, remeber to come up for air, grab a tan on the rock but don't let the harsh sun of societal expectations sunburn your dreams.
god, it feels good to write again.
(self-critically evaluates the sheer incoherentness of above text)
It doesnt matter, not to me, not to anyone who happens to stumble upon this, the important is that somewhere, in that inpenetratable section of my brain that I can never quite figure out, the part that makes me feel tounge-tied, that gives me an addiction to 20-knot breezes, that tells me to tuck down the mountian, to write, just keep writing, the part that keeps me going 'in times of trouble', the part that picks up the song, makes it my mind, that picks up my mind and makes it my body, the part that makes my mouth communicate my soul to other, the part that makes us all human inside.
It is happier that I wrote. And so it ends.
posted by Kyle Bailey at 11:47 p.m.
2 Comments:
God, Facebook is a monster.
In other news, I've already discovered your blog and am enjoying the rambling immensely! Good way to stay posted on your existence.
I had to sign up in order to post a comment. Very irritating.
Kate
kyle? what the eff? since when do you have a blog? you dont have to sign up to post a comment on MINE kate, which by the way you never do.....
chloé
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