mood: artisticmusic: 'haywire' by bedhead

tonight i am overcome with the beginnings of a quarter-life crisis.

i feel like i have no aspirations, no ambitions, only pipe dreams and semi-wishful thinking. can i make it through the world on mostly good intentions and some not-so-good ones? is there a place for me among the many, the masses, and faithful, the workers, as a dreamer? a drifter? a desolate starving artist searching for a source of malnutrition and an artform to pour my soul through?

philosophy is not an art. at least i don't see it that way. i love it, but it will never fuel my desire for an outlet. it will only increase my need for one. it will only coerce my already worn mind into an introspective frenzy, searching for a truth that can only be painted in miniscule strokes across my mind's eye. my mind's canvas.

linguistics is not an art. at least i don't see it that way. i love it, but there's a reason it fulfills my 'mathematics & symbolic systems' requirement. it isn't free enough for me. and how ironic can that be? my words and the sounds encompassing and engorging them are subject to even stricter rules than the numbers that encompass and engorge the computer, the calculator, the everything else in my life. it's too harmonic for my liking today, yesterday, and for the near-tomorrow. i need freedom. i need chaos. i need it today, yesterday, and for the near-tomorrow.

and i'll probably need it for the distant tomorrow too.

so where will it come from?

where will my choices, my responsibilities, my desires, my near-life experiences, my violent highs, my amazement, my melancholia, my ennui, my despondency, my friends, my enemies, my polarities, my gray area, my rebelliousness, my elitism, my never-ending search for glory in the ditches...

where will it all take me?

---Goei---