Sarah, Hopefully

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Paint me a picture

-entry below-

What am I gonna be when I grow up?
How am I gonna make my mark in history?
And what are they gonna write about me when I’m gone?
These are the questions that shape the way
I think about what matters

But I have no guarantee of my next heartbeat
And my world’s too big to make a name for myself
And what if no one wants to read about me when I’m gone?
Seems to me that right now’s the only moment that matters

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of a moment

In Your kingdom where the least is greatest
The weak are given strength and fools confound the wise
And forever brushes up against a moment’s time
Leaving impressions and drawing me into what really matters

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of a moment

I get so distracted by my bigger schemes
Show me the importance of the simple things
Like a word, a seed, a thorn, a nail
And a cup of cold water

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of, the power of, the power of a moment

For some reason that song comes into my head a lot. I think it's the first line- "What am I going to be when I grow up?" Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii don't know.

I hate job searching. I hate it I hate it I hate it. I have to postpone painting my room- or rather, COMPLETING painting my room-- because my parents don't think I've done enough job searching. So I guess I'll spend a few extra days sleeping on the couch with my room's contents spread all over the house. Argh. I have to put a second coat on my walls... I did the whole first coat today, but it's pretty patchy. At least I can buy the paint tomorrow, even if I can't actually use it. Grr.

The Lawrence job market sucks. I hate having all these students around. I hate selling myself to these people who could care less whether I get a job or not. I submit applications and hear absolutely nothing. Thanks. They have all the time in the world. There will always be dozens of students in Lawrence yammering for jobs at any place that will hire them. The longer I wait, the less time I"ll actually be able to hold the job. The less appealing I will be. Argh.

I was actually feeling really happy this week. I've enjoyed working on my room. I've liked working hard and ending each day feeling like I've actually accomplished something. And then I get another pep talk about job searching, and am told that I need to submit as many applications as I can tomorrow and Friday- the painting can wait until the weekend. Great. I know it's true. I know I need to get a damn job. I just... don't honestly care.

That's awful, and not entirely true. I just hate the way everything about this makes me feel.

Life is about selling yourself. You sell yourself to get into colleges, to apply for jobs, to get dates... all the time. You take whatever minute skills you have and exploit them, dress them up, market them as loud and as hard as you can, and hope that someone, somewhere will think you're worth buying. And it feels so cheap.

Bleh.

On the plus side... my room is going to look really good, I think. I hope. I'm going to attempt sponge painting... that could be interesting.

I'm tired and depressed. Great. Goodnight.

1 Comments:

  • You feel exactly as you should. Don't think it is wrong to hate "dressing yourself up", it is wrong, it is cheap. The world we live in is based on many false idealogies about importance and incorrect parameters for the deffinition of a "life"

    So many things to talk about.... Shon?!

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:34 AM  

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