The future. Let's just say that right now it doesn't look so bright that I need to wear sunglasses. In fact I don't feel good about it at all. I don't know what I want out of life, and I find that to be a little scary. I'm sure this is just normal pre-graduation jitters experienced by many, compounded by the looming economic crisis that will quite probably make it difficult to find a job. I am moving to San Francisco because I want to be someplace where life is beautiful. But I don't know the meaning of things. I have all these tangential ideas about what's going to be happening in the future--in the center of the orbit will be some kind of job, hopefully not a bad one, and then orbiting around that will be writing short stories, working on my novels, drinking wine in the park, shopping for vintage clothes, visiting my mom on the weekends, drinking scotch, going to the movies, maybe going out to dinner sometimes, buying used books. Pretty much the same kind of things I always do, only in a new place.
But I want a revelation. I want a greater purpose. Until now my purpose has been simply to get through school. I will have accomplished that. Now I will need a new goal. I think about traveling, and I want that to be my goal. I hope that I can find a job that will allow me to save a little money, and to pay off my student loans, so that occasionally I can take a trip to Chicago or Paris or Cuba. I guess that's all I can really ask for.
When I start to think about the basics like that, the everyday stuff in my favorite city, it all seems a little less frightening. It looks like less of a gaping void. I suppose I need to stop thinking about the big picture and the meaning of life and my role in the universe and just focus on the things that I have some modicum of control over--work, money, play time. I wish I didn't put so much pressure on myself, but that's just the way I roll sometimes. I need to just go with the flow of the stars and the planets and the solar winds.
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