Why do children play with guns? Because we are exerted with bulkloads of pressure. We push ourselves to learn, but regardless of how much we learn, how much we know and how much we apply, there will always be an unforgiving discrepancy between grades and the deserved.
The home owner’s ASSociation is, yet again, fining us a ridiculous $50 fine for a penalty that Kate and I fail to acknowledge. Supposedly we have a dead shrub on our front lawn and we are being fined. I think the inspector is out to get us. Where the hell is that damn shrub they speak of?
Then there’s the worst kind of pressure; the one pressure one puts on him or herself. I’ve blogged countlessly about my ambitions as a graphic designer, to the point where I am read out as a whining baby who lacks confidence to make a significant impact in the profession. With that said, yes, I feel that the world is on my shoulders.
Yes, I know, I am taking life for granted. There are far more important things to be concerned with, like world hunger, child prostitution, dying loved ones and all I seem to do is complain about my lack of moving forward in graphic design, ridiculous gas prices, my peers at school and other things that are unworthy of speaking with another soul. I am shallow. I care for nothing else. I am a self-centered fool, wallowing in his own pile of turd, all because I am overwhelemd with the workload that probabaly amounts to nothing as big as it seems because I tend to to swallow small amounts and complain it is too much. I don’t care about making wads of dough. I just want to make a significant impact on design culture and go down in the books. Money can’t buy that. This bitching is getting me nowhere. Don’t I have essays to write?
