Confusion

Sometimes, I question why I am in college. I don't really enjoy my studies. I enjoy applying my skills, yes... but, those were gained more through private study then through organized classes. Yes, courses like linguistics have been actually informational... but, really I doubt that I will apply that knowledge extensively unless I teach at some point -which I am not interested in. I could make a higher salary as a truck driver then a starting teacher and then, through investing, let my money work for itself.

It is a question of what I really want to do in life. Apparently, I am supposed to know that information by now... sadly, I don't. There are things I want out of life. i.e. I would like to have a family to take care of, a quiet place out in the country with a workshop, and a good guitar to play. I don't feel the need to have coffers full of cash: I just hope for a life rich in love and art.

The path I am taking currently seems to gear me to be a part of either academia or a profession as a technical writer. Are these things I would want? No... if I am to actively use my degree I would only really want to write fiction or columns or, perhaps, poetry (not that there is any demand for poetry anymore). So, what to do?

I suppose I could write grants. I think that I could at least find a company that is associated with the arts; or a noble cause.

I really would like to write fiction. I have plenty of projects, they are all just in the planning stages. I get background information gathered and then I move onto another project. Hell, I have diagrammed the circulatory system, including fangs, of a vampire and have come up with and explanation of how vampires transmute some of their victims into vampires. I abandoned this project because I found out about those damned Twilight books. I should just finish it; why the hell don't I? Laziness? I have story book outlined with a few illustrations down the hatch. It's called Bert the Bear; it's about a former circus bear who now lives in an abandoned cabin in the forest. I won't give anything else away because I know you are all dieing to steal stories for children's books.

Assassin, I could totally be an assassin. We'll leave it at that.

A carpenter? I love working with my hands.

I just don't know. I think I need a muse. Or, time away from school to think about things that matter. But no, I have to finish. I can't have wasted all these years. I just can't admit that yet.

A poem will come tomorrow. Or is it today, now. Soon enough.

Think on this:

Has there really ever been anything more unlikely than a Scotsman and Jafar becoming friends? Through music, holiday traditions and a shared interest in the writings of Machiavelli this bond was able to come to life. (Pictured: My friend Jim and Me when I was thinner)