The future remains a concept, always, until it's actualized. There is an inverse relationship between the scale and the real-seemingness of a future event or endeavour. For example: Tonight you have to do laundry and then make dinner, perhaps eggplant parmesan. This seems very real and like it is actually something that will happen. Versus: Tonight you're going to embark on a three-week journey across Europe, and then start graduate school. This seems like it's someone else's life and not at all like something that will happen to you.
Tonight I leave on a three-week journey across Europe, and then I start graduate school. This is my life. Even though I type the words and use the"I" to claim these events as mine, it still doesn't feel real. With travel, especially, events don't even feel real while they're happening. I'll be in a foreign land in a dream in reality. It's strange and wonderful. The irreality of being in a foreign land in no way takes away from my ability to weep tears of joy and revel in the experience, however.
I drink things in. I soak in them. I revel in them. I love experiences, I love adventures. I want my life to be full of adventures. I want to travel for work. I want to learn things about the way humans function, the way the brain functions, this mystery inside of our skulls. I have so many ambitions that I hope are not ill-founded.
For now, I walk around in a daze, wondering if this is really my life. How could someone be so lucky?
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