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Tuesday, 5 October 2010


The beginning of the end is choosing university.

One of my favourite quotes is from trainspotting:

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?

When I think about my life, I only have one goal: Be as happy as I can as often as possible.
But I also have a habit of thinking into things too much. Take university for example.

University is the beginning of the end.

18-19, you don't know what to do with your life, not really. So you go off to university, usually with a generic degree in computer science or psychology. University is okay, you manage. So you finish.

You are (if you're lucky) in debt of £20k-£30k.
You have to get a job, there's no two ways around it. Maybe you get a job in the subject you like, you are now a suit, congratulations, else you work in a supermarket and get paid shit.

Now you have to move out of your parents house, you have to pay rent, bills, living conditions, and remember you still have to pay off debt.

By the time you've payed it off and settled in you're probably late 20's. You probably have a girlfriend, you might even be married. Fact is, you're pretty much settled and you can't follow your childhood ambitions you always wanted to do. You have responsibilities.

Now you have kids.

Now you're a grandparent.

Now you're dead.

Your life was like every other life that came before, and after yours. You are not special.

Fuck, that was depressing. I'm at university now, and I'm going to quit. I always wanted to travel, I got the chance to last year, and ever since I've got back I wanted to, but through guilt I went to university for my parents. But it's not their life, is it?

So maybe I want to travel. I don't need money. I'll work a bar if I have to, it would be more interesting than being a suit. I absolutely loathe the idea of sitting at a computer 9-5. I couldn't do it. I won't do it.

I feel like I'm aiming for a backup plan of a false dream that money = happiness.

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