I find myself lost within the days of summer. Confined by the same mundane actions the season brings, unable to escape and break from the clutches of laziness and relaxation. For the excitement of life has fled from my being, and the days now drag on as I search and hope for an opportunity to go far far away from the originality of those around me and the simplicity life seems to offer me. The worst part is that I have nothing to write about. Nothing worth while. Nothing but the enjoyment of life. But to me thats boring. For no one, including myself wants to hear about how nice the beaches are, or how fun the parties are, or about the rather dull and uninteresting people I meet on the weekends. No. That is what I call ordinary my friends. The same thing the masses in this world are doing in some way or another. And this is where I become fearful. Scared that I will amount to nothing but traditional. It is when the days seem to blend together that my visions of the past and the future seem so far away. Lost in the summer haze. Now I wouldn’t say I’m bored, and many would look at my life in awe, for it truly is good, but for as long as I can remember something inside of me craves absolute greatness. Far greater than I know. So I live with this feeling, this urge and anxiety to excel, to go beyond what others do and what others see.But here I wait and merely exist within the days of summer. A time where there is no opportunity for these feelings to be satisfied.