Falling Behind... Again
The stress of my future is weighing heavy on my shoulders.
I no longer have the option of doing what I want to do, I now must merely do what I can to get where I want to be.
The dream of getting a degree in creative writing, with a minor in journalism and Communications is just that, but more. It's an adolescent pipe dream. What are the odds of getting a job as an editor, and what are the odds of getting published?
Philosophically, I feel as if the death of my dreams has caused me to become complacent towards an ever-growing threat of demise.
I want things in my life that my dreams won't provide, and yet, those things are material. Happiness is priceless, both in it's worth and in the fact that it can't be bought.
Marriage.
I am for the first time in my life in a place where marriage is a serious concern, and yet, that is the last thing I need right now. I want the love of a woman, but I need direction rather than a partner. I don't mean a mother or father figure, I mean direction spawned from my own self.
Yet, when is a partner's time? Should they not be with you and there for you during your times of strife? Isn't that one of the best parts of a serious relationship... the comfort and support that bolsters you for that one moment until you can take the next step yourself?
Yet, without these material things, I won't be able to keep a good girl. Love is supposed to conquer all, but what girl in her right mind would marry a man who will struggle to support her, constantly chasing his dream, even if she loves him?
The reader shall find me slumped forward on my desk, my head resting in my hands with a burning cigarette signifying my vain efforts to light my path.
I no longer have the option of doing what I want to do, I now must merely do what I can to get where I want to be.
The dream of getting a degree in creative writing, with a minor in journalism and Communications is just that, but more. It's an adolescent pipe dream. What are the odds of getting a job as an editor, and what are the odds of getting published?
Philosophically, I feel as if the death of my dreams has caused me to become complacent towards an ever-growing threat of demise.
I want things in my life that my dreams won't provide, and yet, those things are material. Happiness is priceless, both in it's worth and in the fact that it can't be bought.
Marriage.
I am for the first time in my life in a place where marriage is a serious concern, and yet, that is the last thing I need right now. I want the love of a woman, but I need direction rather than a partner. I don't mean a mother or father figure, I mean direction spawned from my own self.
Yet, when is a partner's time? Should they not be with you and there for you during your times of strife? Isn't that one of the best parts of a serious relationship... the comfort and support that bolsters you for that one moment until you can take the next step yourself?
Yet, without these material things, I won't be able to keep a good girl. Love is supposed to conquer all, but what girl in her right mind would marry a man who will struggle to support her, constantly chasing his dream, even if she loves him?
The reader shall find me slumped forward on my desk, my head resting in my hands with a burning cigarette signifying my vain efforts to light my path.
posted by Hadrian: Dark One at 11:19 AM
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