As I lay in my bed last night I couldn’t help shake a feeling. It captivated my mind and refused to let me drift off to sleep. The subject of my future came into my head unexpectedly and provoked many questions that I honestly didn’t want to hear. I’ve never been one to have concrete plans or a set path for my future, yet my outside influences had basically created one anyway. It’s not that I am scared to grow older, it’s purely that I’m scared to no longer be young. I’m scared to no longer make permissible mistakes or be considered ahead of my time at something. At a certain point apparently exceptional behavior deserves no praise and is expected of any functional adult in society. I’m scared that I’ll dedicate years of school or training to something and realize toward the end that I don’t have my heart in what I’m doing. I’m scared that I’ll end up working for money and disregard my personal happiness for material wealth. I usually attempt to avoid this subject but continually it has been squirming into my pre-sleep mantra. A part of me deep down realizes that this is what makes the future fun is the unexpected twists and turns. Maybe it’s a good thing I have no idea what will come. Maybe I was never really meant to define my future. I’ll just let it be for now, worrying is for the older folk.