Steady as she goes

I have a confession to make, and since no one actually reads this, it won't actually hurt me to make it. It's a little odd, but here it is: I like looking like a tragic character. Tragic heroes, seemingly as a rule, seem to garner an amalgamation of pity and respect. On this stage of a world, I'm playing the role of a degenerate sort of Macbeth, messing about and passively wishing revenge on those who've wronged me. That's where the analogy ends, however; I have a different sort of tragic flaw.

It is a common mistake of several forward-looking people; I'm going to fast for my own good. I'm running blindly through a forest of uncertainty and luckily not knocking down any trees with my face. All I can see is what I want at the end: recognition. After some introspection, I've noticed that my ambitious intentions have escaped my subconscious in myriad ways. For instance, my music preferences (lyrically at least) have become more aggressive, and even pertain to my ambitions. Take the chorus of one of my famous songs for example:

"Into the river below
I'm running from the inferno
They'll think I'm insane
But you'll all know my name
Into the river below
I'm running from the inferno
I'll take all the blame
The front page and the fame"

That's what I want. I demand recognition and respect. I crave it. I've been doing all I can to achieve it. There's a sort of genuine independence to be found when you're admired. I'm not saying I want a chorus of screaming fans, I just want to be noticed. I don't know who these people are, but I want them to look at me with raised eyebrows and genuine interest. Forget Macbeth. I'm a regular Willy Loman. Grab a pen and label me an archetype.

Like I said, that's what I want. If ambition is a sin, I'm among the worst. I'm feeling like I should slow down. I've saddened someone important to me by planning to leave Mercer, a place that I've grown to love for some inexplicable reason. The barest, simplest truth is this: I'm fine graduating from either UGA or Mercer. The degrees mean the same.

Conclusions? There is only this, and this should be my new creed:

"I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
And learn by going where I have to go."

God bless you, Roethke.