April 15, 2003

Closing Doors and Opening Windows

For the last few months, the notion of my apparent future has depressed me to no end. I looked upon my life at the age of 19 and knew what was there. Nothing. A college degree. A professional degree. A job. A marriage. Kids. Bills. Mortgage. House. Suburbia. Materialism. Meaningless life ending in uneventful death. That must sound morbid. But when I looked upon my future a few months or a few days ago, that's what I saw. For as long as I can remember, my goal has always been monetary success. Amassing as much wealth and power as I could possibly amass. But in the clarity of post-adolescence, I see what this accomplishment can bring me. My best-case scenario is nothing but mediocrity at the height of success. So what if I get rich? So what if I get a fancy car, a fancy house, a fancy wife, some fancy kids? What does that all mean? What is it all for? And how does that distinguish me from all the other rich pricks out there with everything I have? More than this knowledge is the depression arising from the acute awareness of all the closed doors in my past, that I myself have slammed shut in the interest of "success."