So what the fuck do I do? I really don't know, internal monologue, I really don't know. Oh, how I wish I knew, what great relief that would bring, to have some neat cobblestone path to tread down. That'd be swell. A little white line to adhere to, with optional distractions never too far from the road to that cosy little slice of life I'll supposedly inhabit in the future.
Supposedly. I don't know, is that expected? Work, mortgage, superannuation, etc., with occasional distractions to make sure I don't develop a healthy distaste for gun regulation and regular thinking? A trip down the thin white line with a couple of forays into the jungle of exciting things every now and then, just to prove to myself that I can. Well, that's boring, I'd rather live in the jungle.
I can't stop expanding. I'll die. Not really, but maybe sort of kinda. If I stop doing new things, and learning new things I will murder someone. The only option is to learn. I like learning. Nerd, wait till the jocks get at you. If following the accustomed route is like walking down a road then forcing myself to continue learning is alike to hacking through the jungle with a machete. A machete of knowledge and awesome. In the common case, learning is the distraction you take, awesome new things are there to slake a thirst that's meant for so much more than that. I'll stay in the jungle, and the thin white line will be the distraction, thank you very much.
That was badly phrased now wasn't it?
#firstworldangst
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