Where I want to be is a place I don’t know

Grown ups are always asking me what I want to be, what job I will get and how I will earn my keep in this world of currency and I never know how to answer, I just kind of stare at them until something both defiant and interesting pops into mind which it almost never does. When I try to explain that I’m going to be a writer but I’m not going to go to university they always seem to get rather confused. I try not to point out how simple the concept is. I thinks it’s silly to need a piece of paper with my name on it saying I can write to be able write professionally. I already know I can write and people seem to enjoy reading what I write so I honestly don’t see the need for it. The more I think about the fact that I am thinking about pieces of paper with my name on it the sillier it seems that is bugs me but I can’t help it. Pointless things get to me.
The grown ups who ask me always seem even more confused if they don’t know me very well. I think that this is because I appear to be… ambitious, which is ridiculous, in a school and pointless pieces of paper with my name on it sense. I get good grades which can be misleading because, in general, the people that get good grades are the people that plan their time and study and work hard and shit. I don’t. I just know what I know and I listen and I gain information from, largely, educated guesses. This confuses people because the majority of my generation was raised on the stereotype that the people who are smart and get good grades are trying to get somewhere, which I am very firmly not, at least not in the ‘university’ and ‘getting a good office job’ sort of way. My plan of life is to make it up as it goes, and until I have the full freedom to do that I will just to what I want to the extent of my abilities. I have no idea where I will end up and even if I make an educated guess that guess is just going to continuously change as I change my passions and the person I want to be. I’m thirteen. I have no bloody idea who I am or where I’m going to be for the next thirty years. What I know know is that I like music and writing and I have found some people that like those things too and they seem to like me. That is it. The extent of my knowledge. Sure I know what 2+2 is but I don’t really counts as what you know in the sense of what I’m raving about.
I really don’t care for grades. I just don’t find them particularly interesting. I used to think they were as pointless and demeaning as awards, but I changed my mind the longer I thought about it. Grades actually make a bit of sense. I think how prioritised they are is stupid but the idea makes sense, just like tests. It is an overall evaluation of whatever. Occasionally the way that these things are tested can be rude, disrespectful and generally idiotic but the vague idea of grades makes sense. Even I have that tingling curiosity about this vague guideline of whether I can do algebra or whatever else. Grades are like the educational system. The base idea makes sense. The whole idea of school must of at some point dug back into a time where teaching the younger generation was an interest of survival. The idea that if you didn’t teach us how to survive then we just weren’t going to. Grades are the same. You need to know who is the best at hunting so that you can send them out hunting for food for the whole tribe. You need to know who can make the strategies for the hunting and who can make baskets out of reeds and who can cook. It makes sense, dose it not?
I’m am really not sure how to end this post as I have gotten completely off topic. I never plan these things. Oh, well. There are my thoughts on a page for now.


One comment

  1. Rebecca Albury · April 4, 2014

    You are on to something important here. Very few happy adults (maybe even very few contented adults) made a plan and follow it no matter what. Making it up as we go along is a part of what makes life worth living. Learning is good for a writer; reading is good for a writer; being with people is good for a writer. But a piece of advice to think about – try not to make up your life with a lot of closed doors just because the activity on the other side of the door has a bit of paper at the end. The activity, person, thing to read, whatever, may be good in itself.

    PS An answer to get you off that hook of the stupid question could be, ‘I’ll have to wait to see what is available; I’m just living now (or I’m still 13).’

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