In two and a half years, I’ll have a bachelor’s degree in biology. What the shit am I going to do? This is it, man. The waves of life are splashing upon my little boat. It’s time to wake up. Life thus far has been a cushy ride, floating on the river of relaxation. The river is ending. A waterfall rumbles in the distance. Time to wake up. Time to take control of this rudder. Time to steer out of danger.
So here are my options on this river of life. I float along and hope to happen into a dock or a port of some kind, which, more or less randomly, will give my life direction. Or. I aim for a specific port, paddle my ass off, and maybe pull into a harbor of gold and fortune.
In the end I’m sure I’ll do what I always do: wait until the last second and make an impulsive decision. I can’t plan life. Hell, I’m not even sure I’d want to. Paddles break, leaks spring up, maps get wet and crumbly. In the end I’ll do what I always do. I’ll lie back down in my little boat and float until I’m washed up on some distant, unimaginable shore. I’ll float through life. It’s what I do.
But that's just my opinion.
Zac.
