So… it’s been a while.
The biggest stress hasn’t been the schoolwork, but figuring out what I’m going to do after I graduate. It’s been hard coming up with solid plans. I have recently had some comfort in deciding that going home was going to be my final option, and I have enough money saved up that even if I don’t have a job guaranteed by the end of the semester, I can still stick around and look for a job. Something’s bound to come along. If not, I’ll just burn through my money as slowly as I can and go home when I can’t stay any longer. I’ve finally decided I’m willing to risk that to have a chance at becoming independent and move out of the house.
The unknown still scares me.
I’m beginning to feel that in so many areas I am above average but not exceptional. My art is good. It should be; I put a lot of time into art. But what I produce isn’t really worth money. I’m beginning to think the same of my teaching. My writing too. I’m still going to submit to Outlet. I promised myself I’d do that, and I have nothing to lose by it. However, I think I’ll feel better if I stopped thinking about my writing so much in terms of publication anymore and make it a hobby again. I’ll continue to write (and draw) for the rest of my life. For now, that writing’s going to be for myself and maybe friends and family. Future kids, maybe.
I’m content with that decision, but I know at some point I’m going to wish for a kind of greatness. I want to be great. Is that wrong? It certainly isn’t restful, but I suppose I didn’t sign up for restful. When is it ever enough?
I love life, by the way. In my studies I get to see some of the best and worst of humanity– through study and fiction. It fascinates me. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough. I want so badly to take that learning and my own thoughts and experiences and do something significant and worthwhile, something great.
I guess I’m just a youth with starry eyes, but I hope some good will come of that.