I forget who I am inside, I forget how I came to be me, and I reach out for that brass ring, for that chance for self aggrandizement, for personal wants and desires, for personal gain, for that thing that would make me happy. Then life gets up and kicks my face in again and I remember...no matter how many times people try to convince me that I am a decent person, that I am a fun person, that there is something within me worth looking at and being around...no, I am still me, I am still what my experiences have produced, and I should just forget the brass ring. Something will always turn it to lead. And that something will pretty much always be me.
I know several of you would disagree on that. It is, for instance, the instructor's fault that I cannot grasp the concepts in the Spanish class. Never mind that 25 of 30 people grasp them just fine. I cannot pass that class. It is not possible.
And yeah, I have the intellect and possibly even the literary ability to write some things. What I do not have is the drive or the togetherness to put it together in a coherent form that will ably clarify the points I am trying to make.
Some of you spend a lot of time trying to encourage me, and by the same token I spend a lot of time trying to encourage some of you.
But at the root of it all, I am not an encourager. I am actually quite the pessimist. I might say things are going to work out for the best for you if you are a good person but I am not at all sure I actually believe it. Quite the contrary. It seems the more of a smurf people are, the more success they have.
I, for instance, try very hard to be courteous and attentive as a student. I get actually fairly upset when people interrupt the class session. I do all the work and then some. I tap my friends and family for assistance. And in return I get jacked up.
There is a lot of frustration in this writing. A lot. I am tired. I am frustrated. I am angry. I work too hard on every facet of my life to receive the results this night has produced.
Yeah, I wanted to be the success. I will admit it. I would love to have my name mentioned as one of the intellectuals who led to a reassesment of modern history. I would love to be the professor who has the fun yet educational and mind-expanding classes. I would love to finish and publish the trilogy.
But I guess it is time to face it. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. You can't make a silk purse out of a sows ear. And you can;t graduate an idiot who cannot pass a 201 course, maintain positive outlooks for his friends, etc., etc.
You can, however, go to bed, as I am doing right now.
Planning Summerfield
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We are playing Summerfield. It is a pretty soft course, looks like a 116
slope, 2300ish yards. 6 par 4s, 3 par 3s, par 33 course. I have played it
several...
5 years ago
4 comments:
hey! what's wrong?
DrewDrew I am sorry sweetie [hugs]
I forgot to mention - you could make a dog's ear out of a silk purse :)
Wow buddy, could you please try to be a little less possitive? You're making me look bad.
As far as the intellect thing goes, you keep telling me I am smart, and your intellectual achievements - both in school and out - far outstrip mine.
YOU AREN'T OLD! And even if you were, Grandpa was learning until the day he died, as is every intelligent human being. So maybe you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but you can teach a person at any age.
I loved every bit of the trilogy that I have read (still need the latest edition by the way.)
Anyway, the point is that right now you're feeling low, but if you're one tenth of the man I know you are, you'll come through it. And you'll see that you are the Great One we all know and love. :)
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