i hate stagnation.

i hate treadmills. you run and run and run and run and the scenery never changes.

sometimes life feels like that. you know what i mean. you wake up one morning, look around, and it hits you. this scenery never changes. you've been doing the same old same old for who knows how many years running. and you're not satisfied with it.

the grass is always greener.

this is why, i believe, we idolize and sanitize the past. the past is always better to us now, because the past was different. rarely was it actually better.

this also explains why we are so anxious for the "next things" in life to happen. like right now, i'm ready for the summer to be over. it's a stupid thing to wish for, actually. i have zero effect on the speed with which the summer's end gets here, yet for some reason i feel it necessary to comment on how i am "ready for it to be over." it's senseless, really. why not just enjoy the summer?

not that i don't, mind you. i like a summer as much as the next guy. my point is, part of me wishes the summer was over and the semester was here, and when it is, that same part of me will wish the summer had never ended.

the grass is always greener before or after today.

but you know what? it isn't true. life is not a treadmill.

it's an ocean.

sure, you can run all day and the scenery will never change. and that's incredibly frustrating. but that's merely the psychological disadvantage to living in a ocean. it does not change the fact--the fact--that you did, indeed, travel.

all you lack is a point of reference. a buoy. land. something that is fixed, that can assure you that you are traveling in some direction.

whether or not it's the right direction is an entirely different conversation.

i'm beginning to realize, i think, that it's not so much a lack of buoys, it's that i don't pay attention to the ones i pass on a regular basis.

the grass is never green until you stop comparing it to another yard.

thanks, God, for buoys.