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It’s a rare moment, a single second of clarity, where everything you’ve wondered and worried and stressed yourself over suddenly lines up and makes a story. It’s no secret I’ve had doubts about my future lately, that they have been most–obviously brought to the fore with the shock of the last month’s events. I just haven’t known what to do with my life.

I dropped out of uni, I started looking for jobs, I worried about the future. I’m yet to tell my parents. All my life I’ve been the jack of all trades and master of none: the guy with a finger in every pie, as Jimmy once told me. It’s just that no matter what time or effort I throw into web design, or programming, or writing, or songwriting, or art, I don’t see any of them as a future… they’re more like hobbies. Hobbies that I enjoy immensely and sometimes make money from. I’m not sure “viable future” is even a part of my lifestyle lexicon. Tonight, tonight did something; I don’t know what. I didn’t do anything remarkable at all: I watched some TV with Jim and Gregor, I ate some pizza, I drank some Pepsi. Just, somewhere the pieces came together in my mind and I’ve never been so excited.

I’m going to take some classes. Maybe a course in bartending, maybe a course in retail, and maybe something else to round off the list. I’m going to work my ass off for the next two years in whatever job(s) I can find. I’m going to save money in ways that a person with a spend–a–holic nature such as mine can only dream of saving. Come the Autumn of 2005, with all the finances I can muster, I plan to sell ‘most everything I own and move to another country. There, with new laptop under arm, I plan to set up a life — as temporary a life as I can imagine. I’ll get a new job in a bar, or wherever I find work. I’ll fuck around in a strange and foreign land until I get bored and move to the next. I don’t pretend to believe that there is a “future” in this lifestyle, but I do believe there is a life in this lifestyle. Who knows? I might meet somebody wonderful and get married, I might meet someone crazy and get married at a drive–thru in Nevada. I might die. I might live.

A few months ago I met a girl in a bar who asked me what my five year plan was. I responded with the only words that came to mind: “A what?! A plan?! Christ, I don’t even know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone five years from now.”

I guess if I see her again, I’ll have something new to tell her.