Find Myself? Come To Jesus? Waste Some Time?

What the fuck do I want to do after college?

Well… actually, I know what I want to do, I just don’t know what to call it. Ergo, the title. (Ergo, Affleck’s finally gonna get that Oscar!)

I don’t really need or want to find myself. I think I know where I am. Not completely, no. But that’s ok. I like to take myself as I come. Don’t force the thing… or it’s shit anyway. If you go out jones-ing for self-actualization, I feel like you just get a bunch of hollow epiphanies (apostrophes to Smee) out of the effort. So, wham bam No thank you, ma’am.

Coming to Jesus… well, Lord knows I should. But I’m in a place where… well, it’s complicated. I’ve been with Jesus. He’s the literal best. But… and I’m a bitch for saying this, I don’t… well, I do. Ah fuck me.

I have just got a lot of hopes and dreams and expectations of my life on Earth that seem to be leading me away from my previous piety. I was so close to God in high school, which yes sounds pretty Southern Baptisty box Christian of me, about as durable as tin foil. But I was. I touched Him and He touched me and we were in love. Now… I’ve gone far away. I still very much respect Him, believe Him, and am grateful to Him in the way that children are grateful to good parents, only really realizing we have anything to be grateful for when something goes awry. I wish I sincerely wanted to be back with Him, and I do on some level that is trying to make me cry during this sentence. But the most of me is cynical of my past, and eager for a new future, one that’s sure to redefine some aspects of me. Or at least I hope it does. And, I do prayerfully hope that I end up coming out the other side even closer to God for all of my trouble. He can do it. I hope He wants to, and that my stubborn butt complies.

So, yeah, maybe in a roundabout way I will have a Come to Jesus. I’m just in a weird place where I’m sinning, know full well that I’m sinning, am not trying to incorrectly justify it like most immoral pricks around now, but am still not in any way trying to change. So I’m not the worst hyprocritical scumsucker out there. Just the second worst.

Wasting Time is nonsense. Time is never wasted I don’t think. Some means more and some means less, but none is completely devoid of value. I don’t actually know why I put it there, but I’m not going to erase it. I was told by someone one time that I should have said something I thought of when I didn’t, and although the beginning of this sentence seems to make no sense to me now after I’ve typed it, I’m not erasing it on that principle that I’m resolving to follow. Ditto to the title. Man… sometimes my mind is straight up dumb.

Ok, enough of that jibberjabber. I basically want to become a transient after college. Not hardcore hobo, but someone untethered and unplanned. I definitely don’t want to go corporate (suck it, monkeys and selloutz) right away, and I don’t want to be that kid who couldn’t cut it and comes back home for a cushy job I get because my mom knows someone from Sunday school. I want adventure in the great wide somewhere (I want it more than I can tell… sorry, just one of those phrases I have to finish, like ‘es okay… i make lamb’ or ‘doesn’t matter… had sex’). And I just think life’s current needs to take ahold of me for a while and I want to see where I end up. It’s a little bit indicative of my tendency to the lackadaisical and reactionary, but hey, I might as well be true to myself when I have the luxury to be. Before life and age and outside expectation really tie me down. And that’s already a bit of a problem.

My dad (along with my totes profesh oldest sister) are already on the job warpath, asking me about my resume and LinkedIn and more fucking “internship opportunities.” My mom, unexpectedly (she seems to be more like me day by day… not sure how I feel about that) actually brought up, of her volition during a phone call, me taking some time to travel after graduation, before I have to settle down. Heck, she even offered for me to still call home Home as a base camp betwixt my jet setting dates. She’s just full of surprises, that one. God love her.

So, amidst balancing my own desires, my families’ varied expectations, this stupid fucking infatuation thing I’m still stubbornly got a grip on (despite mounds of evidence to the heartbreaking contrary), and my own inner fears of inadequacy and ineffectualness, I don’t rightly ficking (<-on purpose) know What I’m gonna do. Write a wrasling movie? No. but maybe one about a friendship that ends (autobiographical… jury’s still out, but the glove definitely fit so kind of open-shut).

Hence, I’m just watching old De Niro/Scorsceses and cult classics, and procrastinating my life away. Fuck finals, I have bigger life choices fish to fry. Made of tofu. Which, btdubs, is gross and flavorless. At least when I made it. But I’m not that great of a cook.

I’m going to include a humourous/adorable video link to make myself feel better and a little more anchored to something in life. And that I can sometimes make sense. Sometimes.


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