The shoe that fits isn't always the nicest looking. We'll keep trying them on. Pair after pair. Some might be aiming for that fancy ass pair of neon hybrid material that caresses your feet like a seedy massage therapist. Some won't care what other people think, and will wear that pair of worn hiking boots. Not because they have flashing lights in them. Not because everyone you know wants a pair of them. Simply because they fit.
Obviously the point of this post is not about shoes. I hate shopping, much less replacing the pair of ratty sneakers I've been wearing since Bush started his term. Replace the shoes with another idea. Purpose. Meaning. Desire. Drive. You get the picture. They say we have a choice. Do we? Yes. But is it as simple as saying yes or no? Never.
Who am I? Another college kid who thinks he's some kind of philosopher because he can string a few simple thoughts together? Aiming to become some kind of doctor, and yet not really desiring the target? Give me a pad and a pencil, and I would be happy. Then Life kicks you in the ass and your stomach starts rumbling and you realize being happy won't make food appear on the table or pay any bills. What are the real choices? Go with what makes you happy, even if it's not very plausible, and hope you get lucky? Or go with what's realistic, even if that shoe might be too tight for you to be comfortable in?
Anyways, I think you understand the main idea here. I would like to pose this question; is a happy, short life better than a drawn out, mediocre one with all the creature comforts?
A not very timely note
This was a blog I once wrote during my high school and early college years. I keep it around for nostalgic purposes, but it is quite obviously no longer updated. I am looking to make a more professional blog presence in the future, but I still like to look at where I was mentally at certain points in time.
- G. Jan 2013
- G. Jan 2013