Life is what happens while you're making other plans.
I don't want school to end. I don't want this year to be over. I don't want summer to come.
Does that make me weird?
I don't want next year to come, another year of schooling bringing me closer to graduation and more years of schooling and then figuring out life. I don't want time to move. I don't want to graduate.
Or rather, I want to graduate eventually, just not anytime soon. I don't want the future to come as fast as it is.
People are supposed to look forward to summer vacation.
At the same time, though, I've developed a sort of senioritis. It all doesn't seem real anymore, like I'm just biding my time. Like an opportunity that's already gone bad and now I have to just wait until it ends. Sure, school can at times be interesting, but I don't seem to care anymore. Doing the minimum.
I admit, I always rather did the minimum, most of the time (alternating with times of silly perfectionism). But I felt bad about it. Now I don't feel anything, I just blandly acknowledge that, yes, I'm doing the bare minimum.
I don't feel I'm quite prepared for life; I feel immature and dependent and carefree. I'm always wishing for more time, or to turn back time, or to stop time. Time. I've experienced over 17 years of it. And yet I must have a slow metabolism, for it seems to take me an enormously long time to digest a year.
But at the same time as I'm feeling the days sort of just lazily float by, rising above the air from lack of density (or even mass for that matter), I realize that this, this waiting for things to come, for life to fall into place: this is life. And so I try to enjoy it, making time for social activities when I can, trying not to sweat the small stuff, contemplating all the infinite mysteries and problems and questions. Sometimes I think on a question and then spend so much time mentally exploring the theories behind it that I tire myself out and lose track of time. But, the possibilities! The ideas! The questions! The questions!
Occasionally I become dizzy, and I have to stop. Otherwise I'll just sit there for an hour or more, exploring the queries.
I wonder what it would be like to pull an Emerson; go out and become a hermit for a short period of time, that is.
But why I really want to do that is, if I'm away from society, then I escape time. I escape time. Years in school, holiday seasons, weeks and weekends; these are all ways that society imposes an unending schedule, a routine of time upon us. You can't pause the tape and wait until you're ready, or take a break; if you stay home sick, work and school still continue without you, and you have to spend extra time making up for the time you've lost. One year of schooling leads to the summer season, which inevitably leads to the next year of schooling, unless you stay back or take a year off, in which case people look at you funny and wonder what's wrong with you, why you couldn't keep up. If you're stupid or something. But if you're by yourself, if you're out of society, then time takes on the backseat role of night and day, and the natural seasons. Each is its own entity, if you so wish, an entity that you can use by filling with activities, or else rest and group together with all similar lazy days, insignificant by itself but part of a gradual recess fromt he efforts of life. Time is a gentle reminder, rather than a constant drill sergeant.
I've never before seriously contemplated taking a year off after high school. I always worried, 'but then wouldn't I lose practice at doing school?' Well, now I'm actually starting to think on it. Of course, it would cost money to live for a year, and with no real purpose other than to live. I'm not sure how I would do it. I would want to live in a rural area, someplace with cheap housing costs. Or maybe I would travel; I would need a car, though, surely, and cars require gas that costs money. Obviously, cars themselves also cost money, money that I don't have, money that I wouldn't have coming straight out of high school.
It would be heaven to travel. It would also be quite expensive. Perhaps I could hike around, carry a backpack with a sleeping bag and clothes and camping supplies, and just live out of it for a couple months, no real destination?
I don't know if I could actually do that, though.
And, since I'm a person full of contradictions, I also want to go to college for a very long time and take all the interesting classes I can. I want to learn, I really want to. The problem is, I just don't want to do the work.
Alright. I'm done with my hippie rant.
Does that make me weird?
I don't want next year to come, another year of schooling bringing me closer to graduation and more years of schooling and then figuring out life. I don't want time to move. I don't want to graduate.
Or rather, I want to graduate eventually, just not anytime soon. I don't want the future to come as fast as it is.
People are supposed to look forward to summer vacation.
At the same time, though, I've developed a sort of senioritis. It all doesn't seem real anymore, like I'm just biding my time. Like an opportunity that's already gone bad and now I have to just wait until it ends. Sure, school can at times be interesting, but I don't seem to care anymore. Doing the minimum.
I admit, I always rather did the minimum, most of the time (alternating with times of silly perfectionism). But I felt bad about it. Now I don't feel anything, I just blandly acknowledge that, yes, I'm doing the bare minimum.
I don't feel I'm quite prepared for life; I feel immature and dependent and carefree. I'm always wishing for more time, or to turn back time, or to stop time. Time. I've experienced over 17 years of it. And yet I must have a slow metabolism, for it seems to take me an enormously long time to digest a year.
But at the same time as I'm feeling the days sort of just lazily float by, rising above the air from lack of density (or even mass for that matter), I realize that this, this waiting for things to come, for life to fall into place: this is life. And so I try to enjoy it, making time for social activities when I can, trying not to sweat the small stuff, contemplating all the infinite mysteries and problems and questions. Sometimes I think on a question and then spend so much time mentally exploring the theories behind it that I tire myself out and lose track of time. But, the possibilities! The ideas! The questions! The questions!
Occasionally I become dizzy, and I have to stop. Otherwise I'll just sit there for an hour or more, exploring the queries.
I wonder what it would be like to pull an Emerson; go out and become a hermit for a short period of time, that is.
But why I really want to do that is, if I'm away from society, then I escape time. I escape time. Years in school, holiday seasons, weeks and weekends; these are all ways that society imposes an unending schedule, a routine of time upon us. You can't pause the tape and wait until you're ready, or take a break; if you stay home sick, work and school still continue without you, and you have to spend extra time making up for the time you've lost. One year of schooling leads to the summer season, which inevitably leads to the next year of schooling, unless you stay back or take a year off, in which case people look at you funny and wonder what's wrong with you, why you couldn't keep up. If you're stupid or something. But if you're by yourself, if you're out of society, then time takes on the backseat role of night and day, and the natural seasons. Each is its own entity, if you so wish, an entity that you can use by filling with activities, or else rest and group together with all similar lazy days, insignificant by itself but part of a gradual recess fromt he efforts of life. Time is a gentle reminder, rather than a constant drill sergeant.
I've never before seriously contemplated taking a year off after high school. I always worried, 'but then wouldn't I lose practice at doing school?' Well, now I'm actually starting to think on it. Of course, it would cost money to live for a year, and with no real purpose other than to live. I'm not sure how I would do it. I would want to live in a rural area, someplace with cheap housing costs. Or maybe I would travel; I would need a car, though, surely, and cars require gas that costs money. Obviously, cars themselves also cost money, money that I don't have, money that I wouldn't have coming straight out of high school.
It would be heaven to travel. It would also be quite expensive. Perhaps I could hike around, carry a backpack with a sleeping bag and clothes and camping supplies, and just live out of it for a couple months, no real destination?
I don't know if I could actually do that, though.
And, since I'm a person full of contradictions, I also want to go to college for a very long time and take all the interesting classes I can. I want to learn, I really want to. The problem is, I just don't want to do the work.
Alright. I'm done with my hippie rant.