I do not know. Those words keep repeating in my mind. Like a broken vinyl, stuck in the depths of my momentarily feeble mind.

That is right; I do not know what I am going to do with myself. People say it is normal to feel that way. I do not care, it most definitively does not feel normal.

This year. This month. I have to decide, decipher what my own future might hold. Where to study, to become what. I know countless made this decision before me, and an infinite amount of people will do the same when I am done, yet I can not do it.

So. Many. Choices. It all floods my mind: teacher; police officer; actor; comic book artist; writer; or chiropractor? How am I supposed to know if I'll like it? How am I supposed to know what I want to be on more than a whim?

Above all else, one word defines my future for me: uncertainty. I hate this: not having most or all the variables. Not being able to decide for myself, constantly asking others:"what are you studying in?"; "what do you want to become in life?" Or even "what do you imagine me being later in life?"

This is horrible; none of my teachers offer and kind of guidance, whatsoever. Except one: my english teacher. I would have expected her to tell me to study literature, but she said she would recommend me to an actor's workshop at the National Arts Centre during march break. Unfortunately for me, my father wanted to do some bonding with his only son, in London. Damn I do not want to bond with him.