Jacob's Ladder

Economics can be christened as the psychology of money. It also holds a special spot as the trigger on the roulette wheel facing me. Assignments mixed in with countless garments and expectations seem to be rising with the sun each morning that drags me out of bed with the jingle of the coyote's collar.

My safety net arrived the other day in the form of a large envelope from a nearby university. I should be more pleased, but I know that it is the last place on earth I would care to exist in for the next four years. Whispers from the wiser and older thrum through eardrums with suggestions of its caliber, but no one is fooling the fool here.

The doctor asked if I cared to knock the little white pill up to two. I told her I could cope without the extra milligrams. To what extent does coping become inadequate, however? When functioning well hangs in midair?

As desolate and exiling and seemingly minuscule as college of the Atlantic portrays itself to be, more and more I find myself being drawn to it. Why? I shall tell you here, but never in person.

I want to get away from this existence. As much comfort as it lends me, the constant need to compete and conform to others academic standards strangles me and leaves me here.

Maine might just be the sole place at the moment where I can completely focus on myself, since nothing else exists there. I won't have any sills telling my friends to stay away from the liberal bitch. Any Cash's making me regret every footstep into the woods.

Not everything seems to be falling apart, however. I have been holding onto the cracks of the walls for years now. When I get a chance to relax and enjoy myself, life finds itself on a much cheerier track with friends and experiences.

Mr. All Around falls into that ipodic inhalation that life takes between melodic breaths outward.

I look forward to a seemingly endless ride down a seamless strip of asphalt with such an acquaintance.

Nothing beats a long car ride with no need to arrive.