I've been thinking...

Looking over some handouts that I got from the public health department at Santa Clara University. They had the next 13 years of my life gridded out in detail. So this is what it takes to be a damned doctor huh? Kinda sounds like the green mile, if you ask me.

It got me thinking. I have a good 60 or 65 years ahead of me, and it's all been plotted out, year by year, month by month. It's all so sterile and structured. 60-65 years seems short and bleak if I think about it corresponding with this stupid life schedule... fuckin' heinous. Having your life set up for you is like going to the store and buying a puzzle set only to find that it's already been done for you. It's nice and all, but now what am I supposed to do?

I was contemplating today while washing some dishes. Don't ask me why I was washing dishes. My dad made me. I was thinking about that movie A Walk to Remember, and how Mandy Moore was given a set time to live until leukemia took its toll on her. What's so admirable was how freely she lived as a result of it. She was free of all social expectations, free of condescending judgements...she did whatever the hell she wanted. And I think that if I were given only 6 months to live, I would've gotten more done than if I were given an entire lifetime.

But why would I need a reason to live? Why do I need to be afflicted with some godforsaken disease to have an excuse to do what I want?
We're all going to die at some point, so why would we waste our lives away whether we had 6 months or 65 years to live?

Just a thought.

Toodles~