Monday, March 22, 1999: On The Dark Side Of The Moon dear sparky, i'm bored. last weekend i actually accomplished something--i cleaned my room for over three hours. this weekend i didn't do anything except see movies, which isn't a great achievement in and above itself. (interjection: my parents think that i'm writing an essay for civics right now... ha.) i start college in the fall which is really no big deal because i'm not leaving home or anything drastic... but it's still a rather large transition in life. i finally have to sit down and say "this is what i want to do with the rest of my life" and i'm perplexed because for the FIRST time in my life i don't know how to complete that sentence. in the sixth grade i was dead-set on being an egyptologist, i was sure that i was destined to find king tutankhaman's father. i held onto that dream for three years until i discovered virology and i spent my high school career immersing myself in viruses and decided that i was destined to discover the vaccine for ebola. throughout that time i'd kept side-dreams, becoming a well-respected psychologist would please me, perhaps persuing a career in the website-production field... or ten thousand other things (in the ninth grade i wanted to be a lawyer... ew). but now i seem to have spent my whole life wanting to be so many different things that i can't even begin to narrow it down. the really sad thing is that the one thing i really want to be with all of my heart is the one thing i think i'm no good at, or at least aren't good enough at. which really shouldn't bother me in the slightest--right? if it's what i truly want to do with my life i should pursue it fervently... and not think about all of my fall-back careers. but don't you think taking that first huge step would be easier if i actually told people what i was taking the step towards? yeah, it probably would be easier but i can't bear to reveal that much of myself. this is really my best-kept secret... i think only one or two people that i've known my entire life know this about me. and i keep it hidden for two reasons; the first one being related to wishing on stars or birthday cake candles--what's the first thing someone asks you after you make a wish? "what did you wish for?" and what does every kid always say? "i can't tell or it won't come true". i know that sounds like a foolish and childish reason--but this is a wish i've sent out on hundreds of stars and on more birthday candles than i can remember and a small part of me still wants to tell people that it's a secret because if i did tell them it wouldn't come true. the second reason is the fact that if i start telling people my life's ambition then they all of a sudden become so expectant of me, and that's something i've had to contend with my entire life. i hate people expecting greatness from me and then being disappointed when i fail to produce it. but i guess i shouldn't worry about all of these things... every attempt i've made towards this particular dream has been given acclaim by people whose opinions i value--and what makes it truly special is the fact that none of these people know that this is my great ambition, they didn't feel a need to coddle this dream i've been harboring since i was six, they complimented my ability because they felt it was deserving. that means a lot to me (obviously). (this letter was just interupted by a phone call from bob the mailman who wanted to be let into the gated community to deliver a parcel to us--he actually opened with "this is bob the mailman" and i just about died laughing. the poor man probably thinks i'm laughing at his chosen profession or something when in fact it was the serious way that he said "bob the mailman") do you ever feel like you are on the dark side of the moon? completely detached from humanity and lost in the vast craters of darkness... i feel that way right now. or at least i did before bob the mailman interupted my journey into the unknown and grounded me. i get the distinct feeling that most teenagers feel this way at this junction in their life--very alone and very lost... and it's always surprising to find that out. i don't think i'll be able to write an appropriate closure for this letter... i've been sitting here for ten minutes searching for the perfect phrase to tie everything together, and i don't think that one exists. all i can think of to say is that i wish i lived at my old house with my old friends and that i could be outside playing hide-n-go-seek with them. for some reason i still feel very lost on the dark side of the moon because i don't feel quite like an adult but yet i feel too old to be playing hide-n-go-seek with the neighborhood kids. love you lots,
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