The Curse of Time

Why is it so difficult to move on? What makes the past so special that we have to recall it? What have I been doing with my time?
Someone tell me what it means to be an adult?
I ask myself; Am I who I say I am? Or, Am I the way others percieve me. I'm a mess.
Lost. I need to be found myself.
I keep repeating myself.
Anger wastes time.

Repeating

I feel so manic-depressive now that school starts in a week. I really hate school, and work possibly. I want to work in a mail room or something. In the back, sorting things that I forgot. Planning "prevenge"(he he). School has never taught me anything. I'm just there to get credentials. I remember the time of the educational void often, good times, good times. Peace was near. It was just hard to find work without credentials (now, repeating myself, reliving regrets, if I quit high school, if I took that apprenticeship in Star Cafe, if I had more patience to learn to swim., I'd be on a ship headed to Japan to challenge Chen Kenichi! BTW when one is dyslexic one keeps reding his name Chen Kiichen).

Why is it so hard to find stuff you really need and want (ah, my quest for a garlic press...and my kind of music...and good reads)? And why do bookstores (or people) charge money for information? Even if you look hard enough, you'll never find what you're looking for.

I should spend less time watching movies. I should go out more often. I tell myself. I open the door. Crap! Nothing for me. Forget this. Back on my ass.

Those kids at SLU-LES/Center are brainwashed every morning, I swear!

I notice things too much. It wastes valuable time and thought.