Am I the only one that has this fix idea that life ends after 27?
You should have a full time, well paying job, be at least engaged, maybe a kid on the way. An apartment or a house that you’ve bought. No renting here. And that should be it.
Not that life ends, but the life we’re living right now. Going to school, taking whatever jobs we can find. Living in small apartments and adventuring with our friends. Making the best out of what we have. Does it ever have to end? Because this is the life I want to live. Until it’s my time to go. I want to wake up every morning knowing that this day won’t be the same as the day before. When you have a full time job that won’t be possible. And that scares the hell out of me.
Surely I’m longing for the day I have my own minions, running around the house, laughing and making me all warm inside. But that just seems like a dream that’s never gonna come true.
If it actually is like this. That means I have four years left. Four years of living.