Confused-Shoes

the recent lack of intelligent conversations has led me to adopt a very melancholic outlook. long, hot summer days of steaming boredom and an insurmountable feeling that I am neglecting to feed my mind. Hence, the ever-familiar sense of self-pity; I have been thinking that, maybe, this is how people see me: for those friends older than me, that I am too young. for those friends younger than me, I am just too old. And for my contemporaries, that I am too uninteresting.

It concerns me that I am so concerned about the way people see me. Why do I bother when I should know better? but un the end it is the haunting feeling of self-consciousness that haunts us all at night, i believe. And I’m just passing through one.

Well, I just had to let that out.

I need oppurtunities to get better. I need things to get me going, to wake me up from my slumber. Like a postseason bound NBA team that has clinched a seed late into the regular season but is on an uncanny losing streak. Worse, when their superstar has been on a legendary scoring tear. Hell, do I feel like the LA Lakers.

See? My mediocrity makes me do comparisons against so unimportant things. Thoughts. A sigh could not remedy it all. Not even a sigh could cure something, anything.

I need fresh air. I couldn’t bring myself to say, law school, here i come.