A few nights ago, I couldn't sleep. This time, it wasn't the horrors of death, or the loneliness of soul. It was something deeper - The sudden realization of my own utter insignificance. What am I doing of my life? Studying? Sure, but for what? To obtain an office job and work from 9 to 5? To make some guy rich? Is this really what I want to do?
It let my mind wonder and inexplicably it went to Amerindians. In my mind, they seem to have understood how to live a happy and fulfilling life. They didn't worry about money, power or any other idiocy that the White Man came up with. Their lives were about survival. Now we are fortunate enough to live in a world where we no longer need to hunt, to gather... to cook. But are we really that fortunate? We used to be masters of survival; now we are masters at watching television and working pointless jobs.
If asked what I really want to do during the summer, I wouldn't say ''Work to save up some money''. I wouldn't say ''Take summer classes to get my diploma earlier''. What I would like to do is to go backdoor camping for the entire summer. Put myself in the discomfort. Learn how to survive, to cook (well) on an open fire. Since that's impossible, I obviously prioritize the choice of studying full-time during the summer. Think about it. The only jobs a student can possibly get are the bad ones. The repetitive ones. The low class ones. I'd rather stay at school where I can socialize and learn new skills.
There is what you want, and then there is what you ought. As much as I dream of liberty, I am forever enchained in the vicious cycle of work-study-vacation. I can push back work but one day, I'll have to do it. I'll have to make someone rich (since I'm not full of my own business ideas) at the expense of making myself miserable.
Perhaps that's why I fancy a zombie apocalypse. Not for the action, but for what happens after it. For the world without money, without jobs that make someone else rich. An apocalypse or a crash would be a blessing, a second chance. Sadly, few would agree with me for the sacrifice of their comfort is too great.
It let my mind wonder and inexplicably it went to Amerindians. In my mind, they seem to have understood how to live a happy and fulfilling life. They didn't worry about money, power or any other idiocy that the White Man came up with. Their lives were about survival. Now we are fortunate enough to live in a world where we no longer need to hunt, to gather... to cook. But are we really that fortunate? We used to be masters of survival; now we are masters at watching television and working pointless jobs.
If asked what I really want to do during the summer, I wouldn't say ''Work to save up some money''. I wouldn't say ''Take summer classes to get my diploma earlier''. What I would like to do is to go backdoor camping for the entire summer. Put myself in the discomfort. Learn how to survive, to cook (well) on an open fire. Since that's impossible, I obviously prioritize the choice of studying full-time during the summer. Think about it. The only jobs a student can possibly get are the bad ones. The repetitive ones. The low class ones. I'd rather stay at school where I can socialize and learn new skills.
There is what you want, and then there is what you ought. As much as I dream of liberty, I am forever enchained in the vicious cycle of work-study-vacation. I can push back work but one day, I'll have to do it. I'll have to make someone rich (since I'm not full of my own business ideas) at the expense of making myself miserable.
Perhaps that's why I fancy a zombie apocalypse. Not for the action, but for what happens after it. For the world without money, without jobs that make someone else rich. An apocalypse or a crash would be a blessing, a second chance. Sadly, few would agree with me for the sacrifice of their comfort is too great.
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