Life is short.

Or at least mine is. I really don't see myself living past a certain point. I plan on dying young. Well, it's not necessarily a plan. Anyway, everyone knows this; I have an intense fear of being old. So if my life is so short, why should I go to college? I can live it more fully if I live on my own, right? Sure that sounds good, but it really isn't. In order to support myself, I'd have to work full-time. I can't do that and be happy. When I work full-time(like in the summer), I lose my spirituality and my sense of love. These things need to be cultivated. Why do you think hermits make such great philosophers? Living on campus, with my parents paying for everything, will grant me the time and peace to learn. I learn so much about myself when I'm not busying myself with making money. It really does take alot out of you. So, I am going to go. I am going to learn. Learn about myself, learn about others, learn about the world. learnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearn.

Change.
I'm just sitting here,
counting my change.
And as I count,
it strikes me that there are
two kinds of change.

I am counting money. Coins.
But I really should focus my efforts
on the other kind.
The kind that changes lives.
The kind that kills.
The kind that saves.
You know.
Change.

College life.

I've been meaning to write an entry about how 'college life' has changed me.

Not much to write about actually.

I don't know. I realize how much I miss theatre and doing shows. I've been going out every weekend.

That's it. Nothing much has really changed. Which is why I kind of feel like my life is on hold, if only for now. Maybe it's because I'm still at home. I love it, my parents don't care what I do, they're treating Daniel and me with more respect. It's also kind of bad, because they do expect us to do alot more work then we did in high school, which is completely acceptable.

What's wrong with me?

It's 8th grade all over again.

God, I spent the last two years of highschool becoming way more self-confident, more friendly, and less shy. Now in a single week, that's all gone. I'm this moody middle schooler again, who doesn't talk to anyone, thinks he's smarter than everyone, and reads way too much. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I keep telling myself that it'll change, "You'll lose weight, you'll get to know people, that zit inbetween your eyes will fade." And deep down, I know that it's true. It's just that right now I don't feel good at all.

Now that I think about it, I realize that it's only on mondays and wednesdays that I feel like that. Tuesdays and thursdays I'm with Daniel in chem, and Stefani in algebra, and I enjoy those classes. If only because I'm with people I've known for a good while.

And english isn't bad, just my dumb teacher. But I guess it's just tennis and acting that I feel awkward. I'm really reconsidering this acting thing. But it's the only real thing I can think of that could pay the bills. That and teach, hahah. Which is probably what I'll end up doing. Teaching english, theatre, philosophy, or theology. Whatever, you know.

Okay, now it's time to actually pay the bills. Work.

An event in my college Eng. II class.

We were talking about symbols, and someone suggested the dove. "It represents peace?" the girl said, as our teacher gave her a dumbfounded look. "Oh, yes," said the teacher. "Like in the Vietnam war, with the doves and the hawks. They represented the people for and against the war, the one in Vietnam. The doves were obviously the hippies, because they were getting killed and drafted."

I metaphorically beat my head on the desk.