My Life…

“What am I doing?” I ask myself all the time.

I don’t want to grow up in the trite sense. I love music…and I want to do something interesting in life. I would really like to write a book or get into film but it’s so flooded.

I wanted to be homeless for a season, just sit on the streets and play my guitar–write songs–and just try to make some money and do something unique. But it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon because my mom was freaking out when I told her that idea and my dad decided to chew me out for being irresponsable.

But I have to live my own life so it’s still an option.

I’m too interested in the world around me to sit at a desk with clients all day.

I want to play the world…

I don’t want to sell some product I don’t believe in.

I have tried to do something other than music and I just come right back to it.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive in this world as a torn individual.

I don’t think it’s irresponsable if I’m going out there and DOING things that I feel will further my life as a human being and give me new prespective.

But apparently some forward steps have an appearance of digression.

So I ask, “what am I doing with my life.”

And my answer is inevitably, “whatever the hell I feel like.”

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