rough drafts

with every final drafts come multiple rough drafts.
i hated when people made it such a big deal to emphasize the bouts of 'rough drafts' our lives seem to go through. i mean, what is the final draft? our final bodies in heaven?
why can't there be a time in an individual's life where he or she is ever so fully content with life?
in this world, people say such states of mind does not exist. there is always a goal. always a check-point. once that point is reached, the individual is to reach higher, or further, than his or her previous destination.
all the greats argue that an able mind (whether it be logically or artistically) must be challenged at every cost.
so where does that leave us?
are we to run our whole lives & sleep when we're dead?
is this the fate of mankind? is it not this banality that rushes our looming death to come closer & closer?
or are these challenges the "veni vidi vici"s of our lives that keep us trucking? are accomplishments supposed to define an individual (apart from the spiritual aspect, of course)? when did this obsession with leaving a legacy become a thing of the present?
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honestly, i am never really happy with my state of mind.
even as i read through the history of this blog, i find myself cringing at what i've written.
i have let my past define me- all my previous blogs are filled with thoughts that have been written with clarity... decadence... a poised, skilled hand.
i am fidgeting as i write this. i am twirling my hair, pausing (very awkwardly) every so often while typing out the words that i am trying to string together to make sense, and wondering where my mind has been for the past couple of months.
i am trying to keep active, alert, but the contentment that i am searching for alludes me.
i'm learning, growing. i wonder if these are growing pains.
i AM finding myself, finding the gospel to be unusually enriching and learning to cope with the daggers and blessings that life has for me.
yet i look at the novel i'm writing, the grad app i'm to be working on, and the words fail me.
i have become the student. i have forgotten how to manipulate the letters i so loved to perfect my thoughts and to clearly convey my emotions.
i have become a trainwreck of a writer & that deeply saddens me.
i can criticize & critique all the fuck i want, but if i can't deliver...
what does that make me?
i am too young to give up on this now. i need a healthy vice.
i want to write my triumphs and trials beautifully, in the way only i can.
to live simply & to write elaborately is the goal for the upcoming 2010.
tis october & i feel the autumn wind brush up against my cheeks & they glow with happiness.
i can't wait for the festivities! the hot apple cider, the thanksgiving specials, the warmth of a heated house & the aromas that seem to fill the air.
screw halloween! i want my turkey!