Dreams of a Dying Star

I'm finally hitting that stage in my education where the future really matters. I have to think about exactly what I want to do, what I want to continue studying for, where I want to head and what will pay my bills and feed me. Ideally, I should have been thinking of this when I started college, not just going head first into junior year.

I spent a lot of time traveling in the world before this point. Australia, New Zealand, England and Wales. I loved the freedom of being out in the world, meeting all kinds of people, trusting all kinds of people, learning more than I thought I would from locals and just being out there. My time in England and Wales, showed me how much I did love my major and want to pursue a career in my field. I just have so little idea about how to go about that, and sitting in a classroom back in Ohio makes these aspirations fade again.

When I was little, throughout all phases of childhood there was one thing I always wanted to do. Travel. I wanted to be that person backpacking around the world. I wanted to be a photojournalist for National Geographic taking breathtaking photos in the most exotic of locations. But having traveled some, I hate that I have joined in the cliches of loving being home. If I wanted to be completely honest there is a specific reason that home holds me stronger than the wonders of the world and without it, there would be nothing keeping me from running away, if only to forget it.

However, outside that, talking it out with my lovely housemates, I realized, I don't need all the traveling to be happy. Sure I want to be able to travel, but I am happy having a stationary home to cuddle and watch my laptop in. I don't need a lot in life. Simplicity is golden and wonderful. All those childhood dreams of being like a comet, always moving, no destination only a journey, are dying away in me as I get older. I want to see the world, but I want to spend it at home sometimes too. I want that person beside me to share it all with yada yada cliche cliche cliche.

I think every year I come up with something else I want to do with my life. This type of thing scares me more than anything. How can I know when nothing sticks? The more I learn, the more that fascinates me, but never enough for a full career. I just give up on things as easily as I was drawn to them. To quote Elton John

"The more I learn, the more I see
The less the world impassions me
The hungry heart, the roving eye
Have come to rest, do not apply
The frantic chase, the crazy ride
The thrill has gone, I step aside"

 For all things college is supposed to be, it has been just a time of putting off the inevitable and a delay to me having to accept responsibility for a means to sustain and provide for myself. I don't know what I'm learning and I don't know what to do with it. People around me are meeting with employers, have plans, know where they're moving to continue school, and just know. I don't understand how they can or how they got there. I just go with the day and freak out the rest. I don't even have an official resume to go for any job. I can't even chose a topic for my term papers that are due next month.

All the dreams we're supposed to bring with s through our life. They weigh me down, more than boost me up. All the things I could be or could do just make me feel more burdened with finding the right fit and trying and failing or succeeding. They are condensing together and pulling my insides deeper and deeper in until I fall too far or they explode.

I don't know my future and for the first time, it scares the hell out of me.