I feel out of joint. I feel out of sorts. I feel torn in several directions. I feel lost. I feel like my life has turned into some strange game of living to please others, but there was never a transition from living any other way. I've simply had a realization.
I don't know what I want to do with my life. Finishing school looms over me like an insurmountable obstacle (though only in its tediousness) but the idea of staying in this town much longer is utterly crushing. Life seems to be passing me by in a flash, though I can't imagine packing any more into each day. I feel like I'm experiencing so much, but it's never enough. The daily saturation point seems to always be one book, one movie, one magazine, one news story, one video game, one concert, one album, one night with friends, one article of clothing, one laugh, one anecdote, one missing piece away. And then I wake up wondering what it's all for.
I'm thinking about moving. And while everything about it seems like the right idea, it seems very wrong. It feels like running away from responsibility (though to what I'm not sure).
We'll see.
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