Understanding It All

Chapter 1

If you try to tell me you've never wanted to know what life is you're lying.

     As cliché as I know that sounds, can you really deny it? I sincerely hope I'm not the only one who's had sudden bursts of thought about life. Like why are we all sitting here, in this place in time and how we all got here. And not in the religious sense either. Whether it's while sitting in a class room, staring at a blank chalkboard. Or lying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Not to say that staring is the reason for these thoughts, or at least I don't think so. But in those few moments when your mind begins to wander, and you think of things, random things that you don't normally think about when focused. Doesn't it make you wonder?

Because I highly doubt it's just me.

     Thinking of what you want to do with that life to not make you wonder is pretty hard. There are so many possibilities in the world, and choosing one is probably the hardest part. You know the things that you like, and the sort of things that make you happy. But how do you turn those interests into a profession is the question.

     Well as a 19 year old who turns 20 in only four months, these are the things that I need to start figuring out. Not just wondering, like I've done since I was still in grade school. When I get out of college I want to have something planned out. I need to, really. It's not that I need to do something to be happy, because I'm perfectly happy. I'm just... confused, is all.

     First off, this isn't going to be some sad, depressing tale about a teenager who's sad or depressed. This is about an average teen with the racked brain of an adult, who's not learning about fitting in or becoming some normal college party girl, but about becoming that adult.

Or, at least that's the plan anyway.

                                                                      ~

"Cassandra, you're mumbling again."

     I jump slightly, snapping myself out of my dream-like state and turning away from the spot on the ceiling I was staring at to look at my friend. "Did you understand any of it?"

"No, it was just the usual incoherent mumbles" she replies, shaking her head at me.

     I sigh in relief. Suzanne knows and understand my thoughts on things and feels the same way. Every now and again I monologue to her about how I want to do something big, but when I'm just thinking to myself about whatever it is crossing my mind at the moment, I like to keep it that way.

     "Although there was something about 'what life is' amongst it." she recalls while rubbing her chin like she's deep in thought.

Darn it.

     She picks up her mechanical pencil and points it towards me. "I'm telling you, as much as you make those mini speeches to yourself, you should just become a prophet or something,"

     I roll my eyes, which is a normal occurrence when talking to Suzanne. "Yeah, well I'll keep that in mind as a last resort. Maybe when I'm 60 and crippled" I humor her, though the sarcasm is dripping from my words.

     We both sit up from our individual spots in our dorm room. It's about 6 in the evening and we both take day classes which have already ended. Suzanne is studying like a mad-woman for her midterms and I'm just lying here, as always. I don't bother studying because another quirk about me besides my endless mumbling is my eidetic memory. I appreciate it when receiving perfect scores on my exams, but other than that it's always been something I've really despised.

     "I'm going for a walk" I say more to myself than to Suzanne while straightening out my grey hoodie, getting up from my bed and walking towards the mini-fridge.