The future

This excerpt is from an article about the particular brand of 20-something angst that drives confused young'uns to drink and blog. A friend shared the article on Facebook, because she's writing an article about it for a popular magazine. Apparently, like adolescence, our 20s are all about emotional shitstorming, sans the sensitive naughty places.

It surprises me that this seems to be such a big discovery. We live in Anything Goes Land. Gay, straight, fashionable, skinny, ugly, involved, deviant, pregnant, barren, raving mad - it's all okay. The world is my oyster. I want to try everything. I want to be everything, including a musician and a fireman.

To be less confused, I need fewer options. To have fewer options is not an option - not for me anyway. I'm 26 and I don't know what I want from life. If anything, that makes me privileged.

If, as the article says, the "dreary dead-end jobs, the bitter divorces, the disappointing and disrespectful children" are all I have to look forward to, I think I'll hang around in this space for as long as I possibly can.