A few things have been getting me down of late and I know just how to fix everything in one fell swoop. I’m going to put more effort in, to everything. I’ll fix my relationship problems and be a better boyfriend, It’s what she deserves. I’ll fix my university problems and be a better student, It’s what my parents deserve. I’ll write more, think more, do more in every venture that I’m looking to get into at the moment, It’s what I deserve. I’ve been a lazy, procrastinating cunt and I deserve all the unhappiness I’ve had. If you want something, take it. I’ve always said this to anyone who’s asked me for help and It’s about time I start to drink my own medicine, you know? I want a lot of things and by fucking god, I’m taking them all. This starts when I wake up tomorrow at exactly 9am if my alarm is to be believed and If It’s the last thing I do, I am going to get what I want and revel in my own happiness and the perfection of my own existence.
I did not mean to fall asleep in or fail to be present for every lecture you’ve ever given me but I was struck by the startling realisation on my very first day of university that I do not need you. I do not need your archaic establishment of knowledge and learning. I will write my own future, one set apart from yours and what your employer wishes for me. I will achieve greatness by my own means because I want it and it wants me.
Drugs and alcohol fuelled my creativity. I reasoned that if it was good enough for Hendrix then it was good enough for me but as i lay here at only five and a half hours away from a lecture I have not done an ounce of preparation for, I realise that it’s actually boredom. Boredom not because I have nothing to do, but a boredom of the real world. I’m fed up of university after a fortnight and not because I don’t want to do it, I really do, but because I know I’m meant for better things. Not to sound egotistical, but I really, really am.
I know what I want.
I know how to get what I want.
I know that I’m going to get it, because I can do whatever the fuck I want.
Now it’s seldom any more than once or twice a month and I’m grateful for it. My dreams aren’t the lovely, flying, gracious dreams. Mine are the ones that make you feel like you’ve been hit by a fucking train and had a bucket of water thrown over you just for good measure. I think it’s because I’m not afraid any more, I’m not avoiding the future, I’m embracing it. I can’t wait to see where this ends up.