I'm up against a deadline. Life. Or so it seems. They call this time the best part of it, but I'm struggling to find joy in all the decisions I don't want o make. I am bothered that I even made the decision that put me in this place in the first place. That one hard choice, which came so easily then, is making me pay with uncertainty and angst about everything my future holds now. I long to be secure and stable, but I can't make a simple decision which will provide that for myself. I desperately fear restriction and monotany. Are these things synonomous? Must they be? I sometimes think they are, and that is why I have so much trouble meeting even the simplest deadlines I or anyone else have imposed upon me. I wish I could travel the world endlessly in my car, sleeping the hatchback trunk and bumming off the kindness I know there exists. But then I think of the obstable that, despite it's beauty and all it's blessing, the ocean poses.