FEARS

Fears:

You will never be anyone. 

You will never be anything. 

You will be who you are right now and never get better.

Someone else has done everything that you were fated for. 

What you were made to do has already been done by Tim. Yesterday. You just missed it sorry.

All the good art that there is to be made has been made and you have not made it. Art will continue, but emptily, like an explanation of a joke

You will be someone you do not like.

You will never have enough.

You will never have health insurance. 

You will have health insurance because you have given up on what you wanted. You will also have dental and a heart full of regrets. You will pour yourself a glass of whiskey in the middle class home you are paying off, it will taste like lost opportunity. 

Other people are better.

Somehow other people will have careers in things. You will not have careers in things. "Career" is a word that will slide off you and onto the ground, it will lie there limpid. 

You are not good at the thing.

You will stop loving people. It is easier not to. 

You will give up.

You will give up and start calling yourself a millennial. Once you do this, you will realize that it is true. That you somehow magically have a degree from a Liberal Arts College (which you do not regret) and your personality is not detail oriented. 

You will not write a book. 

You will not have thoughts that are meaningful. 

You will not read a book.

You will let your mind melt into the slow stickiness of previously freezer burnt ice cream.

You will write one buzzfeed article and be terribly proud of yourself.

You will want desperately to be all sorts of things that you do not understand. You will want to ask people about the things that you are, about the names that they call you but they will not answer. There is no time for Socrates in the marketplace and the internet is no marketplace and no one will listen.

Is there really anything to be said? If there is, it will not be you who says it.

All your stories will fall flat, they will be a two-dimensional door that no one can enter into and be a part of. You will be alone in your stories.

No one will laugh. 

You will laugh but because there is nothing else that can be done. 

This is has been sort of depressing things that seem very true to me and also hopefully a little bit funny. Please do not have a panic attack. If you are having a panic attack try not to blame me even if it is my fault.