big surring out

dapple grey trip trop
heather sway dust tumble clear
buckskin never shod

Well, I am just about half way through my summer. It is about to be a downhill coast once I hit July 28. Yep, soon enough I will be back to the oh so sweet free grind. I must be a glutton for punishment the way I just keep my head down and my heart out of tune. It is supposed to be for the best, but I am starting to have my doubts. Everyday I feel more traps snap around ankles, as if the blind was leading himself.

It was just long hot day, a long dull summer, a long stint of school, a long time in the dark, a long time away, a long rope that is running out of slack, a long stirrup, too long, long enough that every time you think you caught yourself you get a nice little smack of the balls, a long ramble, a long beach full of gaudy sunbathers that lament the glory in a setting sun, a long way home, a long sore back, a long sorer soul, a long smoke trail, a short life.

Ambition is fierce. There is little room for sound thought when you have too much ambition. I want to be good at so many things, schooling in five subjects, looking, health, friendships, improving, believing, forgetting, finding, writing, dreaming, smiling, exploring, skiing, disappearing, and reappearing. I am quickly becoming a scatter brain, when I indulge in it.
I am trying to be too many things that I become nothing. Ok, not nothing, but much smaller than what can be held up to block out the sun. Ok that is not true either, just so small that I cant block out the sun when I am being narrow and judging with only a handful of the whole.

The fact is, though, that I am. Thats it, I simply am.

I simply am, not perfect, strong of mind, weak of heart, full of life, full of myself, uncertain, optimistic, confused, young, taking big bites, trying to talk too, blowing milk out my nose. I simply am human. I simply am me. I simply am.

I am shy, scared boy that was given a few good things, but wants the world. I crave to be in the spotlight, but don't want anyone to look at me, but just to wish they were me. I know I wish I were me. I want people to give me something better. I need more than what I get, but dont know what I need. I want to find comfort and solace. I want to be selfish, and not feel guilt. I want to never feel guilty. I want to feel what it is like to be me, without knowing who I was.

zap a raffa, shlimp shlop, booka kooka agggg a wagg, tally naggg, grime grip natty flim whip.

human? not me. i am anything but normal. i am me. and look at me go.

The first time I had a bad trip I imagined that I was a genius, and that everyone else could see all of these great things in me. But I doubted myself so much that I could never get out of my own head. I could never come to grips with who I was, becuase I already had a mold set up and I didnt fit in that mold. I became such a well known story that they started to write a book about me while I was living, and that just made me more self conscious and sent me over the deep end, it sent me to where I couldnt be recovered.

I think accepting the fact that I am a crazy SOB, might help. But I am not convinced. Some days are better than others, and I do believe that I have an overactive and imaginative mind.

62 days. Three score and 2 days remain. Then I can do as I want, and be me. It is the key to my mental cage. I wont stop trying to pick the lock, but I know what I need.

thin air high country
barren harsh beauty sacred
rest reason, I'm home