Expectations, simplicity, and ghosts.

I think it's the expectations that really kills. Is there some cosmic plan written in the stars for everyone to follow, like an unseen ten commandments that you have to abide by? That's the feeling I get now that I've graduated college. I'm "supposed to" find some ridiculously grand career. I'm "supposed to" work a nine to five job. I'm "supposed to" this and that. But why? And what for? I could be very happy working some job that pays crap and doing menial things in order to pay the bills and pay for all my newfound obsessions. I mean, what do you want me to do? Change the world? I want to, and I maybe still will. But I shouldn't because I'm "supposed to."

I think I'm moving again in less than a month. Funny thing is, I'm not even sure where I'm going. Maybe backwards because it's seems impossible to move forward at this point. I just don't have the financial means to plant myself somewhere new. So I'll wither here, in this wasteland of a city, the Enron by the Sea, as I've come to dub it. And it's here that I've realized that I have few friends and even fewer that share the same interests with me that I've become a bored skeleton. No one does the talk, or care for the walk. Worst yet is the impending fake cheer of the holidays. I abhor Christmas with malicious spite that I'm only counting down the days to Xmas because then I'll be satisfied knowing I won't have to deal with it for another 364 days. So combine my hatred for the holidays, my complete boredom with this vapid city, and my insecure thoughts on very blurred future plans, and I'm some walking fuming mess that's angry at what is and what can't be.

Nothing's ever simple, is it?

You can't just pack some of your favorite items in a bag, close your eyes, and disappear, can you? No magic words to utter. No sweet slumber to last a thousand years until the commotion brews over.

Because that would just be too easy.

I'm thinking of buying a guitar so that I'd be able to find solace in something real. This thought was prompt by a cover of Tegan and Sara's Walking with a Ghost that I'd heard a bit ago. There were no vocals. Just a drum and a guitar. And of course it would be paid for by my menial job, but playing it would make me happy, and isn't that all that matters?