(no subject)
I'm wondering what I am doing in college. There are two parts of me. One thrives and the other sits there the entire time, being dragged along and thinking, what the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.
It seems that the only time I really fit is when I am alone, reading or imagining things. And you can't make a life out of that sort of thing, not without getting up early mornings and walking into an office. I feel like I'm being chained to this "American Dream," this collective, generalized idea that is so dull it's a surreal sort of nightmare. I'm being slowly chained to a lifestyle and work hours, and the job market, then a job, then a retirement plan, then retirement, then death. Where is the life in any of that?
I may be a freak but I really don't belong here. And the worst part about it, is I don't have an alternative in mind. I just want to think things. The reason I love to read is because it removes me from all the dire and trivial details of life that I have to face and handle simply in order to keep myself on this conveyor belt that slowly but surely pushes me towards the checkout.
It seems that the only time I really fit is when I am alone, reading or imagining things. And you can't make a life out of that sort of thing, not without getting up early mornings and walking into an office. I feel like I'm being chained to this "American Dream," this collective, generalized idea that is so dull it's a surreal sort of nightmare. I'm being slowly chained to a lifestyle and work hours, and the job market, then a job, then a retirement plan, then retirement, then death. Where is the life in any of that?
I may be a freak but I really don't belong here. And the worst part about it, is I don't have an alternative in mind. I just want to think things. The reason I love to read is because it removes me from all the dire and trivial details of life that I have to face and handle simply in order to keep myself on this conveyor belt that slowly but surely pushes me towards the checkout.