Oleander Smooth

I'm slowly beginning to realize how uninspired I really am. I think I need something really horrible to happen to me. I have no plight feeding me. No real emotional drive besides confusion and blind ambition. I'm like a creative vehicle with no fuel. Lyrics and poetry aren't over my head, but I don't have any reason to create it besides just wanting to. I have no foundation. My life is too simple and generally good, and that's bad for me. I think I need failure, shame, loss, or something. I have nothing pushing me forward besides the fact that I want to succeed, but I think I need to fail first. I want to go out to dinner with friends. I need to make friends, but I think I hold my traits in too high of a regard. That is, I feel like noone else can relate to what I've got in my head, my mind. I think that some of that will ease during next year when I'm surrounded by philosophy majors. People with depth. People down to earth and in the clouds simultaneously. Or maybe I need to make compromises. Find people in between. Everybody is so contrived in this generation, including me. Everybody wants to be clever. Everybody puts on that clever face and makes a remark. Everybody laughs at that remark with their that-was-clever laugh, hoping that what they've just laughed at was indeed clever and in that moment assessing his or her wit and the wit of he or she whom she just laughed at. Everybody wants to be hilarious. Everybody wants to speak with meaning, including me. I don't really think I do. I mean, want to speak with meaning. I think I appreciate thinking with meaning more than saying it. I keep so much to myself. I don't think I'm afraid of being judged. Maybe afraid of being misunderstood or not understood altogether. Maybe just enjoying that I have those thoughts. Feeling like I understand something about anything, at least in my own little way-- my own little way that I perceive to have incredible meaning, but that is relative. People ten years older than me may find something deep that I'd find earth-shattering or vice versa. Or maybe what I find mindblowing they find phenomenal. It depends on who truly has wisdom and who is just outdated. I think that I will become outdated, my way of feeling, my way of perceiving, my way of reacting to my environment. I realized for the first time a few weeks ago how I'm supposed to smile into a camera. It feels like I'm the actual expression a clown has painted on his face, but it looks good to the camera. It used to look something like a modest mugshot or a driver's license photograph of someone who's unsure whether they should be receiving the permission to operate an automobile. Now it looks good and it took me a handful of years to discover. Will it be like that for everything? If something so small took years, will something as large as locating my creativity be found in decades? Never?