22...The Age Of Nothing And The Questioning Of One's Purpose

Every time a birthday rolls around I use that time as an evaluation period of where I am at in life and where I am going. Seemed like every year I was going down a path. I learned to walk, read, go to school, play sports, get into a good college, and get a good job.

At 22, are a mortgage, wife and kids the next move? I will quote Eminem's "Forever" verse in saying: fuck no, go for broke. I know what I don't want to do, but I don't necessarily know what I want to do. I guess the next bunch of years are going to be dedicated to a lot of trial and error. Thinking back to this time 2 years ago, I was actually excited to be 20. 20 meant being a man and making your own decisions. It meant leaving the confines of dependency and walking the treacherous tight rope of responsibility. It's not a scary tight rope. At this stage, if I fall I will fall into a Fantasy Factory-esque ball pit to get up and try again.

What am I supposed to do though? Keep trying to move up at work? I hate work. Seriously, the job I have is pretty sweet. I just hate the idea of working. Ironic name for a blog, huh? My evaluation has taught me that there is no longer a path to follow anymore. Once at this stage in life, we have to create our own road or path. Sure, we have people pushing us in directions and swaying our thoughts, but ultimately the choice is ours guys. Create your own path, do the things that you want to do.

Strangely inspiring track. Says all the things I've been thinking with a punky/rebellious tone. God dammit, I have the 22 year old version of angst.