mintcar

IN BETWEEN

There are no destinations in my world, only in between places. I think that's the one thing that troubles me the most. I feel as if, to be normal, I need some sort of center-ing: a history, a myth, something permanent like a home to secure my self. Unfortunately, I'm not a history maker, and I'm definitely not good at preserving memories (my memory stinks). The past and present are not where I am. My mind's in the future, and it doesn't exist. The future foretells life, followed by death. So, is liminality a bad thing, when our life is a place between pre-birth and death? Between non-being and non-being?

Here I am, I observe, and here I will not be for long.
(Imagining I am an albatross--my favorite bird in the 5th grade--I'd like to take off where the wind current is smooth for the long haul.)

And here is everyone, preparing (or not) to accept the changes, happily and unhappily, of post-graduation. Perched on an edge that will disappear forever as soon as we lift off into the endless sky of endless variables!

I used to believe that to be a good kid, you have to set goals and reach them--you have tasks, and you complete them. I see that my role now is more general. There are things I (1) have to do, (2) should do, and (3) don't do: (1) use my skills to make money to support myself (2) go to grad school, have family, kids, possibly career (3) be lazy, fail in education, finance, marriage, relationships. (1) and (2) almost fit together under category (1), and (3) is the death of me.