There’s a lot of things I’ve wanted to pursue as a career in the lifespan of twenty years.
I once wanted to design wedding cakes or be a cake designer of some sort.
I remember once wanting to be a vet, then an astronaut and then an archeologist
Because, seriously, what’s more awesome than digging up fossils?
Oh, that’s right- marine biology. So I could be on the discovery channel and swim with the sharks.
Then came being a psychologist, then a criminologist, then simply an agent for the FBI.
There was also a mortician, a forensic pathologist, and then a “blood splatter analogist”.
Then came being a teacher, then a writer and then an illustrator.
For a brief second I considered being a politician but that was short-lived. (More so than the rest).
I even considered being a bus driver or janitor because.. Why the hell not?
That coincides with being a truck driver or a pilot or stewardess.
Then it was journalism and shortly afterwards it was photography.
Maybe a carpenter? A model designer? A painter?
I’m still undecided, after exploring many fields,
And I think it’s mostly because as I grow I see that the world is filled with too many things to simply dedicate your entire life to one thing.
One thing that will define you and your existence for…well, ever.
It’ll be how you’re remembered or brought up in someone’s daily conversation. It’ll direct your decisions and the outcomes.
It’s difficult to decide for someone who doesn’t want to be remembered. Someone who doesn’t want the responsibility of /living/ on their shoulders.
Someone who’s heart is set on being dead the following day and not having to make the decision at all.
Someone whose one constant aspiration was death itself.
Oh yeah.. I remember what I wanted to be when I grew up…