Banjos

Thanks to everyone who has been sending me bearded banjo man music.  Most especially thanks Paul Jost.  But thanks everyone for fueling my obsession.

I’ve been having difficulty focusing on my classes lately and just generally getting a handle on the semester.  I’ve switched a few things around in my schedule, hoping that it would start to feel right. But it hasn’t.  I’ve chalked it up to typical “senioritis”.  But that excuse just wasn’t cutting it.  I couldn’t figure it out.

But I think I finally did.

The closer that May gets, the closer I get to “the real world”.  This arbitrary concept that has frightened me my whole life is rapidly approaching and I can’t escape it.  I guess I thought that if I kept treating the semester like it was still syllabus week, May, graduation, and el mundo real couldn’t come.  I’ve always hated the idea of the 9-5 daily grind.  It seems stifling.  Routine.  Controlling.  I always wanted to do something more free.  Loose.  No rules, no time cards.  I could never figure out what I wanted to do.  But I always knew how I wanted to feel and what I wanted to be.  Free.  Dirt on my hands.  Wind blowing through my hair.  Beautiful.  Beautiful and Free.  I thought about being an artist.  A musician.  An author.  I thought about running away and just hoping the world couldn’t find me.

But escaping the world isn’t the answer.  The world isn’t a business office.  The world is everything I want it to be.  And I can’t stop time coming as it will.  I can’t shut my eyes and avoid my fears.  I will only find beauty and freedom when I make eye contact with the future, with the present, and with the past.

I’ll step forward into the unknown.  I will be true to myself.  And I will find look around and find everything that I’ve been searching for all along.  And I will be beautiful.  And I will be free.

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