chicken crap.

- have you ever woken in the middle of the night, to find yourself standing in the kitchen, staring out the window, prob-belly under dressed with the same thing running thourgh your head,
"Where's my life going?"
whenever i think of, ageing, i always see a artist in his later 30's, with alittle more then a morning stubble on his chin, standing in his kitchen. moonlight pouring thur his window that over looks the new york city. his slightly growing beer belly, sleep shorts and for some reason cool "dork glasses" purched on the edge of his nose. he's standing there, wondering,
"why the hell did i leave school. why did i think all this junk i make could be considered "art" ? why couldn't i just have gone to law school?"
i don't know why, thats just what i see when i think of ageing. i mean, the man's come to a point in his life when hey, he can't be a kid or even a teenager anymore. he's got to get a real job, that comes first in his life. prob-belly working in a office all day, sorting papers or awnsering phones. no real soical life except for the occasional drink at the public bar, where lonely single moms and crazy old men go. he's got to leave all his dreams only to go back to them at night, or in a drunken phone call to an ex. yup, that's being an adult. where its all about being boring, making money only to spend every bit of it of bills, and having sex with half good looking single moms or someone you've got to pay, only to wake the next morning with some kid youve got to drop off at school, or all your shit stolen. being an adult, sounds awesome yeh?
maybe this is the reason i fear growing up. the fear of being a disapointment and not making a difference.