I was cleaning out my desk the other day and came across two newspaper clippings that I’ve somehow managed to hold on to for quite a few years. The first is me when I was 9, flying a kite at the park with my stepdad, which somehow warranted the importance to be front page worthy, cheesin’ so hard it hurts:
The next, the devastating hurricane from 1998 which had my name, eloquently titled: “Mitch’s Mess.”
Such is life; from carefree beginnings, to finally beginning to realize and adjust therein to what’s in store next, and we get a pretty good idea of how, for the most part, our lives will continue to progress. Mitch’s Mess. It never carried much weight to me until just recently. Because now it’s my life and the burden I carry is directly a result of the mess I’ve created of it; feeling as though I’m at a complete stand-still. It seems as though everyone around me is making moves and getting situated and accepting, and in most cases excelling, with the responsibilities brought forth to us once we take that step from childhood to adulthood.
Everyone except me. I’ve been in college for nearly 7 years now, 4 different universities, and I’m still the slacker I was growing up, doing just enough to get by without ever setting any goals for the future or ever really giving myself any kind of challenge. I know that I’m an extremely intelligent and capable individual, but sometimes I think the more you know the worse off you ultimately are. I’ll spare the details, because I’m sure most of you can relate in some way or another, and for the sake of ending this 4AM rant. And who knows, maybe I’m the one doing it the right way and everyone else is just going through the motions and rushing through life. Because at the end of the day I know one thing for certain: I sure as hell am still a kid at heart.