The science of apostles and the cries of the wicked, I’ve got little to lose. My bones are slowly protruding sharply through my chest and my mind is likewise pressing outward, sailing off to sea. I’ve been on a really grand high lately. Five photo shoots in seven days, trips to the outskirts of the city, Dante’s Inferno and wandering up to the tenth floor for drawing class completely stoned.
Monday I have a “self-portrait” project due. I’ve no idea what to write or what to create. I’ve contemplated turning in a blank piece of paper and I’ve considered turning in a collage of everything. I don’t know what to write “about me”and now that I think about it, I don’t even know what to list under “hobbies”. I really despise all these bull-shit self discovery activities. The majority of the time I find myself believing that there is really nothing to what we call “self”. We are just small fractions of a whole. If I’m told to write about myself then I guess I’ll have to write about everyone I’ve ever met. Or, I’ll just put it plain and write,
I’ve tried everything and I know nothing.
“Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost”