I look around my room, dimly lit by an almost burnt out bulb in the corner, wishing that the semester would just end already. It just seems like every moment that passes is a moment that could be used for something constructive, for something I need to do for classwork. The nagging feeling pokes at me every time I begin to do anything that isn't being used to excel further at English Comp. or to fall further behind in Biology.

Even still, I just sit, blankly staring at my record player across the room. I have no speakers for it, but I see my copy of 'Self Portrait' resting on top of it, as if being begged to have a needle be lain upon it. As I think about how much a rendition of 'Days of 49' would be nice right now, I finally get up the energy to head over to my school bag and pull out my computer.

I boot up my laptop, as light bursts from it, lighting the rest of my room. I lay back, waiting for everything to load.

At long last I finish all my math assignments online and am now looking for something else to do. I see someone linking to a blog on my Facebook, and I smile. I haven't blogged in years. You know, spewing your opinion on other people as if some guy in Sweden gives a damn. That's how I envision it lately at least.

I go to Blogger to see that my account's age shows. Not for its design or alike, but for my account's information. Right wing didn't even begin to describe me, following the conservative lifestyle as if all else was evil.

"Good and Bad: I defined these terms, clear cut, no doubt, somehow. But I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." - My Back Pages, Dylan

I'm nearly embarrassed to tell you the truth. -- Scratch that. I'm completely embarrassed.

I now sit here as a moderate looking at this account knowing full well people actually read this blog at some point. I shuddered, knowing I contributed to the brainwashing.

I sit deleting the messages, blogs, everything. Every cliche to be wiped away, atoned for.

I realize that I want to make things better. Do something different. Write not for the people as I did before, (especially not the crazy people) but for a small select group. Bob Dylan fans. It's a noble endeavor since he drove me away from looking at one side of the spectrum as good and one as evil. He made me realize both are hypocrites, crybabies pointing fingers, etc.

So here I am, spewing my opinions not for the 'greater good', but for a man who changed my life more than any one deity besides God himself.