I did one of those career tests again. It told me I should be a forensic scientist; a live CSI member. That would be awesome, I did consider it long ago, but it takes a lifetime to get there, and I'm not really that patient.
Looking at it, there's a whole load of things I do the same thing with. I would love to be a forensic scientist but i would hate the road to getting there. I would love to be a dancer, or a machine technician, or a psychiatrist, and a lot of other things. I really believe I would like it. But the roads there are so intimidating. Most of all, the whole "protocol" about it bothers me. How I have to study one exact thing in exactly the way everyone says and write essays containing exactly what other people think they should and stuff like that. It bothers me so much, that most things I never get started on, and those I do get started on I fail because I can't focus. Being a writer is easy, in that sense. You do what you do and see if it works. With other things I have to do it the way others say I should. Some protocol is necessary, of course. But it's not the protocol of the subject but rather that of the studies that hinders me.
I dream sometimes of becoming one of those hermits living in the forest, surviving on what they can make themselves. Absolutely free and separated from the claims and rules of society. Alone to make their own mistakes. Responsible for their own life only. I'd have a few cats and maybe a dog, and it wouldn't matter if it was sunday or monday because vegetables grow on both days and the deers don't care. Is it possible? Would I be happy? I think, and this scares me, yes. I would. But something, most likely my own cowardice, keeps me from trying. Or is it the spirit of the pack that whispers in my ears and warns me from the path of no return? To turn your back on society is the crime society cannot bear, is that not so?
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1 week ago