We all need little escapes in our lives -- sometimes we need multiple modes of escape to evade the realities of our daily lives that are too difficult, too depressing, or just too dang boring to deal with.
During this great and grand finals week, my escape has been Grey's Anatomy. Ridiculous, unhealthy amounts of Grey's Anatomy. And what's worse is that I'm watching reruns of a series I have already seen from start to finish. The internet has done terrible things to our brains, allowing us to reach addictive material with the click of our forefinger. Crap.
However, I have already lined up my post-finals relief in the form of Sue Townsend novels -- four of them, to be exact. It seems that I would rather be preoccupied with the bitter existence of fictional characters than to be completely involved in my own. Well, I guess we all go through phases like this. It's the gray weather talking. It's the cabin fever talking. It's the blatant loneliness and instability that stares you in the face every morning while you're brushing your teeth talking. But whoever's talking, this is youth. This is being young. This is what has been idealized throughout centuries, and it's one place that I love being, and hate being at the same time.
Am I fickle? Sure, sometimes. But I'm young, I'm 20 years old. I don't have to have anything figured out, so the world can just stop trying to make me feel guilty for changing my mind. I know where I want to be in 5 years -- a law school graduate, living out my glorious 20s in London, and changing the world. But I have no clue where I'll be in 4 months' time. Or 14 months. Peru? Spain? Geneva? Stuck at home without the financial abilities to live out my dreams? Well, maybe not my dreams. Let's call them my aspirations.
All right. Enough for now. My head's kind of spinning, and I'm getting frustrated. So, here's to being honest, to being real, and to being fearless of being afraid.
cheers!
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