Hey Blorp! I'm at a point in my life where I feel like I've lost purpose.

Thing is, I don't think I ever had it in the first place. It's silly to think that I can be running in place without realizing I've made no movement. I have to ask myself: who am I when I'm not working?

But, then again, to define myself is to limit myself-- I didn't jump out of a box to be placed into another. Defying definition means having the freedom to choose things outside of labels, outside of expectations. Then, this feeling about needing a purpose is pointless-- there is no reason to exist, I simply do. To define my existence as anything is absurd when I haven't experienced a large part of life. I cannot define a creation as it is being created.  

But, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I need to go to college and I need to enjoy college. So, I need to find one or two things that I'm good at and dedicate myself to it. I mean, everyone arround me seems to believe existence demands destined virtue. It feels real, so it might as well be. 

Writing isn't valued, at least I don't think it is as much as it used to. 

Shit. Shit. Shitting shit. Maybe this person I wish to be is another manifestation of that fear. Fear that without a rulebook for behavior, I lose the illusion of control over my life. Illusion, because let's not forget, life is purely unpredictable. I think that's why I'm so scared of losing purpose. I have no idea what the world is like outside this familiar small town. To have to leave it means to stare unpredictability straight in the eyes, and walk into her house.

Maybe, the reason I work isn't for a career. Maybe I work out of joy. Maybe I can choose to work because it's fun-- to learn because its fun. And when I deny obligation, when I act through choice, there isn't much that can strip me of my autonomy. 

But, then I'm just replacing one purpose with another, filling one void with another.

Well, everything in life is unpredictable, uncontrollable except for myself. Autonomy may be the only thing I hold in this world. Maybe, I don't need a true purpose, maybe the point is to exist. Exist as I deem fit, not as others define me. Exist as a being which understands the unpredictability of reality. Exist in a fluid mentality, where I am not defined by the past. Where I am only defined by adaptability and unpredictability. Why can't I become as undetermined as the world arround me? Why can't I be as fluid and everchanging as the wind? What is stopping me other than fear?

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To stare unpredictability in the face and walk right into her home. I might write a poem about that. ("I have a literal date with destiny")