The Trick Is To Keep Breathing.

The Trick Is To Keep Breathing.

I don't consider myself as a bum. I do consider myself a master procrastinator, but not a bum. Bums are people who sit around at home and do absolutely nothing...I, on the other hand, brood silently over what to do with my life from time to time. Bums have no conscience and don't care. I am conscientious. Or at least I think I am. Truth be told, waking up at 2 in the afternoon certainly has its benefits: I've skipped breakfast, and I've skipped lunch...I'd only need to eat one meal today, and it wouldn't be so bad (unless I was going to Hartz). So, waking up at 2 p.m. is good. In a way.

I know that deep inside of me, my inner Jedi is probably trying to invoke some sort of remorseful mood for not being more of what I should be: a noble warrior, diligent, enterprising, determined to make a difference in his life. But, for today, I can honestly say this: I don't care. I have a day off to just sit around at home and do nothing at all. It might sound like a drag to some people, but I kind of like it. After my constant moaning and bitching about not having time to do what I want, I've got it. I think this whole week is going to be like this. No obligations to go to college (besides the odd lecture, but I actually can go straight home after those and not stay for some prolonged discussion amongst people who take absolutely no interests in what I really want to do). I can sleep in for a bit. I can even start work early on my assignments (and lay waste to the title of master procrastinator). I can do all these things.

So why do I feel so guilty?

I told you that I was conscientious.

Yesterday came and went rather plainly. But I felt good about being in college just for being in college. Coming home was a delight. It's like I always say...the moment I set foot into the car after a long day, I feel liberated. I tend to feel liberated over a lot of things. Kicking a football. Fragging a bot. Writing a song. Sleeping. In that sense, I suppose that I'm easy to satisfy but difficult to please. I guess that I've turned into some sort of a monster. But, hey...I'm still here, aren't I? That should count the most.

This whole bumming phase isn't a surprise. I was like this 2 years ago, where every day, at the wee hours of the morning, we'd meet up at Si Wan's house and hang out for lord knows what. And that was a 2 week stage of life, where I actually had a bunch of "cool" friends. I'm not one for cliques, but that felt awfully liberating as well. I know that sitting around, outside a car at 3 in the morning and talking isn't exactly what most people would label as fun, but trust me, it really was. Those were good times...you can sort through the blogs and read about them. Lord knows what I've written. I suppose that it wasn't really what I'd call a bumming phase...I was only embracing what tainted youth I had left.

But is this what it's all about? Retaining my vigor (that sounds so wrong...ala in need of Viagra)? Despite my desire to graduate with a degree and find work, there's this part of me telling me that I shouldn't do that quite yet. That my life will change for the worst once that happens. That my desire to live my life the way I want to will be quashed when I move on to that next step. I can understand why people would want to do that. Success, financial independence, whatever. But I don't feel ashamed to be still living off my father and mother. It's wrong to say that it's their obligation to do so for me, since I am 21, but...in a way, it's their responsibility. Maybe that's a bad excuse. But the point is, I might no longer be who I am once I go out there. I already know that who I am now is far enough from the plot to initiate a rethink.

Some of those I know who've graduated and are working envy me (God Bless you, Matt). And they're some of those who're working who like to be condescending to the bum. And to them, I say that I do respect and admire you for the fact that you can carry a great amount of responsibility. But fuck you for looking down on me. Because while I understand I'm going to be in your shoes, working away for a better future, that's not my place now. I'll be there, eventually. And I'm not going to like it. And neither should you.

The way I live my life has nothing to do with the fact that I want a better one. Almost.

Two kids. A happy home. A nice car in the garage. A garden. Air conditioning. Picnics. Soccer games. Those little pools. A dog. Or a cat. A lot of love to spread. That's what I want.

That's what I need to work for.