I’m just here to kill time, I say,
So just kill time with me.
Help me strangle it before it strangles us.
We need to stop its ticking pulse,
So we can play off the beat.
There were futures, but I said kill time with me now.
We’ll twist up its forward and back.
It won’t be easy, but when we’ve made it,
We’ll feel its grip grow limp, its gaze grow vacant,
Its march stumble to stop in the path.
I wanna kill time with you,
And bury it deep in the sand.
They might dig up the fossils one day, I guess,
And think up who did it, they’ll know, more or less,
But we’ve got timeless space ’til then.
Jung talked about people wanting to regress to the womb in difficult times. But what if we actually could? What everyone revisited the womb for just a moment and saw that it was wet and lonely and cramped and had a pretty darn high mortality rate? Would we realize that it never really could provide the comfort and safety we were seeking, and search around us for answers instead? Would we start looking forward instead of back? Would we finally grow up and get on with life?
College admissions are not controlled by some magical, divine force. No matter what they tell you about ending up where you’re “meant to be,” it’s really just people and numbers on the other side of the process.
That said, most people don’t need a flawlessly-matched college to have a positive experience.
Moving, distance, semi-independent living, urban navigation, and time management are not nearly as hard as people make them out to be.
It’s one thing to hear older artists talk about how they don’t care about success or external validation and like the idea, but it’s another to genuinely feel this way about myself. I need some distance from the constant panic and uncertainty of young adulthood before I can get to that place, and that’s okay.
There is more than one way to be social.
You know how people slightly older than you seem to have it all figured out. They don’t.
Everyone’s life looks way more exciting/perfect on Facebook.
It’s totally okay to feel lots of different things simultaneously. Acknowledging this make every one-word answer to “How are you?” feel painfully dishonest.
Everyone is shamefully ignorant about something. Google helps.
Not all snow is adequate for snowman building.
I don’t actually know what my parents are thinking.
People have no idea what I’m thinking either. Explaining is important.
Have a great new year, people. Or an average one. No pressure.