Who Is John Galt?
So my baby had the coughs and had to be taken to the doctor. He won't be out of the hospital until next week. I am in fact of course referring to my laptop, which had to be taken to the lab after only 2 months of use. The poor thing is all worn down. I am posting the old fashioned way (no semagical privilages for me) off the boy's computer while he's away at his folks' place. He said I could use it so long as I don't download soft porn (hardcore only).
As you may guess by my title after 6 months to a year I have finally finished Atlas Shrugged. In my defence, I haven't picked up a book that didn't have psychology or criminology in the title since I started school, and when midterms were over last week I finally had time and ran through 650 some pages in 3 days. That right there is some good stuff. Almost lives up to whatever masterpiece will earn me the title of the youngest person to receive the noble prize for literature.
I realized recently that routine doesn't sit well with me. Maybe it's because I'm still young and rash, with spikes up my butt and excitement for life and the world. The truth is I'm only ever really happy (if I am ever happy at all) on those excursions away from reality, whether it be seeing a movie, reading a book, or something more extreme like a weekend getaway to my parents' house or even a vacation abroad (the ultimate emotional orgasm for me). It's not that I don't enjoy independent life here and its perk, and I love that I'm in school and that I'm studying what I am. It's just that I'm a dreamer, I'm an idealist, and I know I should grow up and start living in the real world but it's just not satisfactory. It's those whiffs of breaks from reality that are my drug of choice and they keep me through day in and day out until my next relapse. I think it's this reason why I'm terribly broke. I spend every money I don't have on going out for dinner, or renting a movie, I plan on going back to camp this summer despite my parents' protest that I need to work (camp doesn't cost money but it doens't earn much).
I am unhappy settling for mediocracy, doing the same thing every day, even if it is for my best in the long run, working towards the goal of my degree, saving up for a rainy day and all those adult stuff.
Sometimes I feel I grew up too fast. I want to still be a kid. I am still a kid. I don't want a day job, I don't want to commit to any place or thing just yet. I used to love my voice training lessons when I was up north even if it was once a week because it was once a week where I could break from routine, but I can't afford any sort of luxury like that here, barely affording a new CD to make me smile. I've watched everyone around me, my flatmates, my cousins, in their late 20s not yet with a degree, and I was scared to end up closing in on 30, wanting a family and feeling like I haven't accomplished anything yet. I was scared so I rushed into college right out of the army, but now, now I'm scared that I'll look back at my life 4 years from now and though I'll have a piece of paper in my hand I'll have no memories, no pictures for the scrapbook, no life-changing experiences.
I don't know why I'm crying. Maybe it's because it's coming close to that time of the month. Maybe it's because I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I'm enjoying myself but I'm unhappy. I'm satisfied but empty. I can't explain it. Maybe I'm just going crazy. Who knows? Who is John Galt?