I should have gone to Europe for a year, as almost everyone I know did. I shouldn't have gone to law school straight from high school. I look at them, and talk with them, and they're so happy, they've re-discovered themselves and their capacities, they've rediscovered love and life... and I'm here, getting good grades, confused and bored. I haven't found the guts I need to make things change, and I'm scared I won't discover them until I get out of here, out of this bubble of protection around me.

But I'm here, and I'm still in my little microcosm, useless. Should be elsewhere, living my life for the first time, away from everyone. Somewhere where I could be free, where I could err and discover what I'm really about. My limits and capacities need to be tested. Relationships need to mature more. But I can't do any of that if I stay here, in this world where I study, sleep, eat, party, drink. The only time when I can think is when I'm in a club, far away from the people I know. Alone with strangers, people who's just worried about dancing, having fun. People who doesn't expect a brilliant future from me, an insightful comment, a perfect style. But I can't bear to live like this, waiting for the next weekend, for the next night out.

Always, in my dreams, I am away. Some wonderful city unfolds as I walk, and every turn brings a new panorama, a new set of values. Step after step on other streets, where no one knows me, where I can rediscover myself.
'Hi, I don't know who I am. Do you want to help me discover that?'.
Imagine just being able to re-define yourself, without thinking about how that fits with what people expect from you, how they will think you're just going through a phase or faking something.

Nevertheless, I can't go away. It's impossible... Perhaps in a few years, but then it won't be worth it. Everything will be carved in stone by then, and only something radical will let me change that. Yeah. I don't like the colour of my life, and there's nothing I can do to change it.

So the world keeps on turning, and everyone's lives keep on being lived. Until the next weekend, when I can stop being myself for a few hours, I'll suffer and die a little inside.