Thinking out loud

I want to write. Write something, anything. I want to write something that isn't a critical view of George Herbert or F. Scott Fitzgerald, and what possibly could have been a motivating theme in his works. I want to write about what the world is, what it is to me...why can't I? Maybe it's because I'm too busy critically analyzing things I already understand and am forced to sit and consume my time with them. Maybe it's because my mind is so consumed with everyday humdrum things - things that aren't really important - things in which I can find neither beauty nor pain, or anything in between, just things that must be done. I've turned into an unreasonable symbol that I created. Must get good grades, must have good appearance, must not...must not what? Is that it, is that all of them. Are those the two things that I'm completely consumed by? How superficial. I definitely don't have bad grades, but I'm sure they'd be even better if I didn't worry about them so much. I don't do anything more to make them better in my overzealous approach to them, so worrying is a completely unnecessary component.

Stop worrying, stop wondering, start being!

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