Disorder

The way the world works is in five ways.


But I don't know any of them.

I'm a stranger to order. A look into my backpack is a look into my brain.
Crumpled papers of assignments long lost line the bottom and the books are used as notebooks, the papers sticking out the sides have frilled edges.

There is rarely a working pen in the front pockets.
Maybe a highliter and some post-it notes, but not a pen.

(i haven't used a pencil in years. I don't like the way they scrape against the paper.)

I want to feel:

Passion
Music
Creativity
Instant gratification.
And sweet, sweet love.


And I want to swing for the fences.

Chronic Laziness

The thing about writing a blog on careers and success is that I'm not totally fascinated by all of this. I'd rather write bad poems or rants about why they ought to just give me a degree already.

I don't like school so much i'm starting to find. I'm just not motivated to do any of the work.

I'm beginning to think I should have been a marketing or business major. I like English, but I just don't find focused enough to do the reading. Besides, I've given up my dreams of becoming the next Jack Kerouac.