I feel homeless. Today I packed my room up, almost entirely, into boxes. It's amazing how quickly I was able to pack 14 years worth of possessions up, and how little it really amounted to. Just a few boxes, scattered across my now open floor. I couldn't bring myself to take down all of my posters, not yet. I have 19 days, as time barrels down on me. Soon I will be at Evergreen, and I cannot wait. This weird transitional phase is nearly unbearable. I feel like I'm caught in a waiting room, and unfortunately, I recycled all the old magazines, and all the books are packed into a double milk crate. The funny thing is, I know that home is only a concept, but I have lived in this house since I was four years old, so it became home. It became that place that I longed for when I was away too long, and that I was comfortable in. It may sound silly, but the first time I set foot on campus at TESC, I felt like I was home. I didn't have to be anything but myself, and it has since been somewhere that I have constantly had a subconscious longing to be near.
That is not to say that I didn't deviate from the plan for a short while. There was a point in time where I had commited to attending UW and going into medicine. Partly to be impressive and have stability, and partly to fit in with my then present situation. In hindsight, it was all foolishness. I was worn down and ragged from years of career counsellors telling me that I had to choose a conventional career, something that would offer me stability and safety. The quizzes would indicate that I ought to go into Arts and Communications- which was a loosely used term to express that I ought to become a sell out artist, do something safe that would earn enough money to put bread on the table. After a series of hellish heartbreaks, I came to the conclusion that I had absolutely no interest in stability and financial safety. Happiness was what I sought. I wanted to be happy, in whatever destitute or prosperous pass-time I choose to pursue. I decided that living happily in my car, being creative, eating rice, and not being able to afford shoes was much more desirable than living comfortably in the suburbs, working 9 to 5 in a maze of cubicles. Human beings are not meant to live in little boxes like that. It's unnatural, and it's unhealthy. I want to see the world, experience, express, create. Going to Evergreen will allow me to marry my two passions- worded and visual expression- into something I can make a living of. Into something that will probably cause me to be eternally lower middle class and content. Something that will go hand in hand with my wander-lust, and even go as far as to promote it.