Future Talk
In my opinion, thinking about college is overwhelming. The thought crushes me; I imagine looking up to see an expanding concrete slab, until. . .THUD.
The thing is, I don’t know what I want to be. Whenever I tell distant relatives I have no plans for my future, they always respond with, “you have time”—like I was potty trained yesterday.
Since I have no career in mind, I refrain from researching colleges (or making plans for my future in general). It feels like a waste of time—like planning the arrangement of stickers for an imaginary hydro flask.
Whenever I attempt to investigate colleges, I start out as an optimistic, wide-mouthed kid; I hop on the computer, ready to make progress. Then, after flailing around on Google for thirty minutes and realizing I’ve made no progress, I fizzle back into an unmotivated seventeen-year-old overwhelmed by the weight of his future. It feels like cutting a boulder with a sausage—impossible.
There are so many things to consider, so many unknowns that come into play. Like what happens after high school—do I sit on the couch until college starts? Will I even have a couch where I live? Wait, where will I live? How will I pay for it?; how will I get a job when I don’t have a college degree? Will I even go to college if I’m this indecisive? Will I end up on the streets!?
I feel unprepared for adult life; the big transition that all juniors and seniors wait eighteen years for is, to me, a dark path illuminated only by my squeaky lantern. Tiana, on the other hand, has rows of Christmas lights on her path. In “Almost There,” she sings, “I know exactly where I’m going. I’m getting closer and closer every day.” I envy her drive. I wish people would tell me what to do; it’s easier. But even then, according to Tiana, that’s “taking the easy way.”
Having to motivate myself to decide on colleges and figure out what career I want is overwhelming. The thought itself crushes my mental state, and is frightening to consider. But, at some point, I know I have to decide, and at some point, I know I have to grow up. I’m the only one who can drink the cup—no one can do it for me. It’s my future, my life, and my fault if I end up homeless.
Hi there! My name is Diego Caceres, and I’m the Editor-in-Chief for The Ubiquity, which means I edit articles and approve everything posted on the website....