Ok, well i try not to do this stuff do often...but it is nice to get thoughts out of my head. It gets too cluttered in there as it is. So I supposed it is time for another rambling look into my belligerent mind.
As some may know, I celebrated (to use the term loosely) my 25th birthday last week, and those of you who read my earlier garble know that I had certain regretts that were on my mind while reaching this milestone. Don't worry though, I'm not too depressed or anything, so nonody had better show me pity.
I am actually pretty relaxed about everything right now. yes i might be living a farily quiet life; alone in a house and all, but I'm ok with it. But today I did something stupid that reminded me again of some of that stuff.
There is a long story behind how I got to live in this house, but I will skip that and just give you the jist: I live in the house that I grew up in, alone now, but when my parents moved out (like I said, long story, dont ask unless you want a long story) they left a lot of crap on the third floor. I rarily venture up there, its cold, decrepit, and to be honest, its a mess. Some walls are actually still stripped down to just the joists due to a construction project that was never finished. But I digress.
I decided today to go up there and to start to sort stuff out, maybe start cleaning it up so I could use it. With not much else to do, why not? While organizing boxes (trash, ask parents, etc) I stumbled onto a box that was just labled "Dylan Crap", obviously a box of my stuff from when I left. Its contents were things that I havent seen in years, not that I really cared about some of it, but stuff like my HS diploma are cool to know where it is. In the bottom of the box though, was a plain white office shipping envolop/folder thingy (I dont know what to call it). As i explored more, i found that inside was the packet and acceptence letter I recieved from SVA.
Sadly, I never had the oppurtunity to go to School of the Visual Arts in NYC,I just couldn't get enough money at the time. Add that with the fact that when i did go to school (though only a community college) I failed every art class I was in, I would HIGHLY doubt that I will ever try to go now that I (potentionally) could. Its not really in the cards anyway when you look at the big picture.
But still, it made me think "What if..."
I hate that feeling, really I do. And yet, its not one that I can seem to avoid ever having.
To end the story, I put everything back in the box, and came back downstairs. I'm not really sure if I want to continue looking through everything or just salvage my diploma, burnt leather case and all (dont ask), and toss the whole lot to start fresh.
Is it really wrong to look into my past and ask what could have been? Is it wrong to never want to look back?
.....
Well enough rambling, getting this deep is making my brain hurt. I think I'll just make a pot of coffee and enjoy it. Maybe I'll blare the radio and do some more painting as well.
As always, if you have read all the way to this point, thanks. I hope I dont make you go crazy too. "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain."
