Imagine Others Complexly

I never read poetry, I never liked it. There was always too much left for interpretation, or it just didn't make sense to me. In grade ten I was given a poem to analyze and present to the class. I was given Lawrence Ferlinghetti's The world is a beautiful place. I didn't really care about the assignment, I bullshitted what I though it was about, and delivered a rehearsed speech to my class, hating every moment of it. I barley passed the assignment. In all honesty, I was pissed. I did everything the rubric had said to do and my presentation was good. Eventually I got over it and forgot about it for years. It wasn't until my life felt like it was falling apart and I didn't know who I was, or what I was doing that I really thought about it again.
Wow- I sound a bit dramatic, don't I? I mean I'm 18 and I feel like my life was falling apart? I don't know who I am? Okay the whole part about I don't know what I'm doing makes sense, I think everyone feels that way at some point after high school, but man, I sound like the average teenager complaining about my life and how hard it is and blah blah blah, right? Maybe I am, maybe I actually feel like that is all truly happening to me. Who knows right?