Slip slidin' away, slip slidin' away
y'know the nearer your destination
the more you slip slidin' away
I have become a smouldering font of anger. This is usually a sign to me that I'm running smack dab into a mixed state, because when I start getting angry for what is no reason, and at nobody in particular (I will refer to this as "I hate the world and I want to get off."), and my agitation levels increase. It's funny this has happened within a week of me getting my ticket out of this hellhole, and only a few days after I sealed an envelope with my fate enclosed.
And I know a woman, became a wife
these are the very words she uses to describe her life
she said, "A good day ain't got no rain"
she said " A bad day is when I lie in bed and think of things that might have been."
March is one of those months I don't recall very well. I don't recall March of last year at all, caught up in the swirl of classes and getting over the accident, getting over that rainy night in Los Altos...March of 2000 was spent in a depression, and I think March of '99 was as well. March of '98 was okay too...but March is not a friendly month, I'm guessing. I know February isn't, and February tended to drag itself into March. So I'm sitting here, on the 17th of March, going "where has the month gone?" What have I done with myself this month? Where am I going, what am I doing?
The human mind can push itself through situations that it wants. I had adjusted to the fact that I had no hope in getting out from under my parents grasp, that I would be stuck in Boringtown for another year, a life stalled. And somehow I'd adjusted to the monotony and stepped into the role of the good daughter...it got dropped in my lap that I'd been accepted for grad school. This means a lot. I had so set myself for the inevitable rejection, I don't know how to handle this acceptance. The new hope, the fact that I will be out from under my parents thumb, is a bit staggering, and i'm not sure how to adjust to this.
God only knows, God makes his plans
the information's unavailable to the mortal man
we're working our jobs, collect our pay
Believe we're gliding down the highway
when in fact we're slip slidin' away
So here I am. Trying to adjust to the sudden infusion of hope. If that makes any crazy sense whatsoever. And it's not just me dealing with crazy feelings. What is *wrong* with the world? Why are we all so short-tempered and retreating back behind our shells? Is it possible that there's something big going down, and somehow we're able to feel it? Is that at all possible?
I don't know. I *really* don't know, and I don't think anybody else does. But please, bear with my shortness, and my Irish temper. The fuse has burned short, and I carry a lot of dynamite, so be careful with open flame. I'm attempting to work this out the best that I can, but it's going to take time. And I wish I could understand.
Thanks for the ramble space. And thanks to Paul Simon, whose music expressed something I'm not sure totally that I could, as usual.