Tip of the Iceburg

Time has this way of running away without me... I've had tons of free time, but somehow I haven't found the Time to write.

I've been going through old boxes of stuff lately. I'm such a pack-rat. I can't seem to throw anything away... Anything that anyone gave to me finds some way to stick around. I re-read letters I got 8-10 years ago like I was reading them for the first time. That sounds/feels like a strange way to describe nostalgia. Maybe a better way to describe it, is that I can remember being there, when I got the letter for the first time... All those old feelings are still there, who I was, who they were.

*shrug*

I ramble.

... Life update ...
I'm currently not working. I quit my job at the aforementioned Pit-O-Hell. I've been hanging around for the past few weeks catching up with all of the things that I've been Meaning To Do(tm). Touching bases with friends, fucking around online, answering e-mail, dusting off my camera (real film, not digital), figuring out what I want to do when I grow up... You know. All of the things that I keep meaning to do, but haven't gotten to because I haven't had the time/energy.

I'll get back to the 'ole grindy sometime. Hopefully, I can get a little crappy job that pays enough of my bills, as to not eat through my savings like mad, but, who knows. For the first time since I left for college, I feel like life is an open road. I feel like *right now* I get to choose what I want to do with my time.

Which reminds me...

Trainspotting
John Hodge
Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future.

Choose life.

Tip of the Iceburg You always say, bring you street-life, bring you real-life, that one man's desperate and mundane existance is another man's... techni-color. [[strange days]]
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Share on Facebook		2002-07-06 2:05 AM cease to resist... Time has this way of running away without me... I've had tons of free time, but somehow I haven't found the Time to write. I've been going through old boxes of stuff lately. I'm such a pack-rat. I can't seem to throw anything away... Anything that anyone gave to me finds some way to stick around. I re-read letters I got 8-10 years ago like I was reading them for the first time. That sounds/feels like a strange way to describe nostalgia. Maybe a better way to describe it, is that I can remember being there, when I got the letter for the first time... All those old feelings are still there, who I was, who they were. shrug I ramble. ... Life update ... I'm currently not working. I quit my job at the aforementioned Pit-O-Hell. I've been hanging around for the past few weeks catching up with all of the things that I've been Meaning To Do(tm). Touching bases with friends, fucking around online, answering e-mail, dusting off my camera (real film, not digital), figuring out what I want to do when I grow up... You know. All of the things that I keep meaning to do, but haven't gotten to because I haven't had the time/energy. I'll get back to the 'ole grindy sometime. Hopefully, I can get a little crappy job that pays enough of my bills, as to not eat through my savings like mad, but, who knows. For the first time since I left for college, I feel like life is an open road. I feel like right now I get to choose what I want to do with my time. Which reminds me... Trainspotting John Hodge Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top