born to pick flowers, forced to pick a major
my family had a few guests over the other day, and i was already dreading it, but then the moment came when the home-invaders asked their favourite question "what are you planning on doing with your career after school/college?"
externally, i smiled politely. internally, my unkept nails were tearing at my overgrown hair, my silent scream was stuck in my raw throat, my thoughts were numb except help help help until i spiralled.
how unfair, how unjust, how incredibly pressurized is the system of our world today? we are given at most two years to decide the next four decades of our life, and if we somehow, miraculously, tragically mess up right now, it will haunt us for the rest our miserable lives. its depressing how i have to spend my time sitting in front of a screen, researching possible careers and jobs which will end up with me sitting in front of another screen, with none, absolutely nil, scope of change or escape.
is this what we, as humans, were meant to turn out like? brainwashed, wasted, completely dried out as we follow each other in a single, endless stream of scripted success? why, when i say that i want be an artist, am i told that i wont survive this economy? this economy, that is structured to thwart anything that probably won't bring profit and advocate everything that will. why are we so out of touch with what we inherently want, and so so so consumed with what we need to do?
there's a lot of gaps and cracks in my argument but god, i just want to live the way i want to, and defy any social rules or corporate ranks that threaten to swallow me whole like the others.
forgive me, Lord (and society), for i have yearned.
areudirty
2087
tangentwithtanner
