My Ravens, Don't Read

I'm not good with words like I thought I was. Looking back on stuff I wrote about just a few years ago, everything I wrote which I thought would be profound is really just immature and stupid. When I look back five years from now, too, that is how I will feel about writings like this one. I have always wanted to be a thinker, someone who could understand life's mysteries and knows the answer to everything. It is now clear that no matter how much progress I make, there is no way I can ever achieve this, at least for the next few decades.

What I think I know is always changing, too. One day, life seems pointless and the glass is half empty. The next day, anything is possible with just a little willpower. I don't know if it's just the weather (one day/week, it's cold and cloudy, then it's hot and muggy, then it rains like crazy, then it's cold but the sky is clear, repeat until the spring) or what.

It's getting better and it's never been worse at the same time. I don't mean anything serious, just that I don't know anything about life. Maybe it's something you don't know ever really figure out, but when you're 40 and you have an established career and a family you have something to build on. I'm 20 and I don't know what I want to do with my life. Lots of people my age don't, but many will soon figure it out, and what if I'm left behind? I had more plans, more ambition than this just a few years ago. I wish I could just see into the future and see where everything goes.

See? There I go again. I suck at talking about my feelings, my word choice is poor, and every sentence uses the word "I." Maybe I look down on what 15-year old me wrote, but I'm whinier than him. Will 25-year old Ryan be the same? Or do I finally mature out of this cycle? I'll see in 2017.