I would love so much to get into politics. I wonder how that would work out. I was thinking about it and something hit me.
The future is empty. The future can be anything that I make it. anything. I could be a poet, a professional fisherman, a criminal, anything.
I could get up, right now, and just drive. I could go away from here in a second. One single impluse could carry me around the world. I could read a book, steal a gun, or stare at the wall. My future holds everything. (mirabile dictu!)
I was in awe. Then I realized that the future is quickly becoming the present. Greedy time IS passing (cite: Horace), but what does that mean? Should I study? Run? Do something new?
What am I SUPPOSED to do with my life? What do I WANT to do with my life? What am I GOING to do?