Another personal favorite of mine is the "what do you want to do after college?" question. I am a huge daydreamer. I love to sit around, think and plan out my entire life in my head. I've already figured out everything in-between birth and death.
I'm pretty sure I was plotting out my delivery in the womb. It's just what writers do. We don't just accept not knowing the future. We write out the whole damn story before it even happens, because we just have to know what's going to happen next.
But when it comes to after college and getting asked what my plan is, I have no clue. For once I have no plan. I have ideas -- plenty of them -- but no motivation to figure them out or create concrete plans. I want to write but where, what and for who or what? I have no idea.
Now most would just shrug and say, "whatever, I'll figure it out eventually." I don't have that luxury. A visa and an expiration on my i-20 means time is ticking, and my future in American has a time stamp. I can't just stay, so people please stop asking if that's what I'm going to do.
It's what I would like to do, maybe, but it's not something I can decide on my own. Hillary or Trump would have to be the judge of that, and the way it's looking I may just flee for Canada before I even finish college #ANYTHINGBUTTRUMP2016 #voteforPedro.
So here I am a little confused, a lot of nervous and lacking any drive to plan it all out. My heads clustered and my options are (somewhat) plentiful. Where do I wanna go? Up and out preferably. I want to get out and find a new place to live, get lost and acquainted all over again. Live somewhere where I know no one and learn a new culture. I want to be scared and petrified and unsure for once, and most of all, I want to surprise myself.
I've always planned. Obsessed with being in control of things, I've rarely ever let life take it's course. I'm alway grabbing hold of the reigns, trying to steer my life in the direction I want it to go, and then get frustrated when things don't go my way, when there are some surprises and last minute changes. And boy have their been plenty lately. But for once I just want to live and let live and go somewhere just because and then figure it out from there.
The world, in it's entirety, is both massive and small. Massive in the sense that I could never span the entire globe and see it all -- money is a thing and so is time -- but it's small in the fact that just by going to a new city, and leaving the house I make connections and meet people from all over. I experience different people and their lives and find myself getting that much closer to experiencing the world.
I can't and won't see it all. I can't plan it all out. I may not land the perfect job. I may have to go back home for a while. I might move to a whole new continent and country. I might take up acting again. I might write for theatre or write a bestseller. I might become a poetry professor. I might publish a book of poems. Anything and everything is out there, and possible.
There's no guarantee that none of it will be easy or sudden. It may be prolonged and difficult. Canned tuna and corn dinners, sketchy one-bedroom apartments, rejection letters and culture-shock. It's a possible fate that I have grown okay with.
The unknown will never be known, until I open myself up to being lost, not knowing and not deciding where I want to go next. Or at least not yet.
So where do I wanna go? I have no clue but it'll come to me, in pieces or all at once. I'm confident in the fact that my daydreamer daze will eventually lead me to an epiphany.