Thursday, July 7, 2016

Scratch that.

Scratch that last post about reasons I want to be a doctor, because I actually have no clue what I want to do with my life.
Funny, because I felt so sure before, but suddenly, I have all of these options before me, and I have no idea. I guess that's what college is really for though––figuring it out.
I just hope I don't make the wrong choice.

That's my biggest fear: making a choice I will regret for the rest of my life. It's like staring at your own very possible, impending doom.

But who cares, there's far more important things going on, like the fact that yet another cop killed a black american who was a father and a son, or the fact that there's terror spreading around the world because of poisonous wars and thirst for power. People are so sick it sickens me. I think that's why I'm having a tough time deciding what I want to do. I want to be a doctor or nurse to help those who're physically sick. I want to be a psychiatrist to help those who're mentally sick. I want to be a teacher to help educate kids growing up in a sick world. I want to be a writer to tell the few people that my writing falls into the hands of that it gets better, you can be better, we can all be better, and we can all chose to love or hurt. I want to be able to afford the best life for my future kids because they'll deserve the very best.

That's the problem; I want to fix everything, but there's only one of me. So what the hell do I choose? How can I choose to help the physically sick while the mentally sick are also on the edge of dying? I guess, to reassure my conscious, I could say that there are plenty of people in the world who can take care of those people. But that doesn't really make me feel any better at all.

I may not seem like it sometimes, in fact, I probably seem cold and uncaring most of the time, but I'm actually so fragile that my heart breaks for every stranger I pass by on the street, because I know that each and every one of them has suffered, is suffering, or will suffer because of the cruel world we live in. I just hope and pray that they know of love, too. I guess that's all an 18-year-old girl without a job or money can do. For now.

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