Sometimes I feel like I've lost my dreams in a sea of practicality.

Where once there were aspirations of opening my own gallery or doing my own comic book, there's concerns about finding something that will grant me an internship, something that I know is marketable. I wonder where this sunk in.

I mean, practicality has never got me anywhere. The concern of advancement, the concept of what I "should" be doing at this point in my life has caused me weeks and months of misery, finally quitting these vile office jobs, floating from one to the next until I finally decided I'd rather do something like waitressing than ever be a secretary or customer service rep again.

So why is school any different, really? I mean what makes me feel that just because I can put in a keyword on monster and see that I would make forty thousand a year with this degree, make me think that I would in any way be happy doing it? Why is there this utter lack of faith in the universe that I can make what I truly want to do work? If I've learned anything in my life it's that while I should always utilize business acumen as necessary, that opting for security always fucks me in the ass. That when I try to have fun is when the material needs are provided.

I was thinking about things...copywriting, journalism, all of that and I suddenly remembered this friend of my Dad's.

She was in PR/Marketing for years and then she snapped. As in complete depression. Couldn't work, couldn't function, nothing. Then she started doing these bizarre nude cemetary art pieces. She spent so long trying to fit art into practical expectations that it just made her crazy. She didn't have the disposition, forced herself, and finally rebelled against it.

My mom was a technical writer for sixteen years. Not because she wanted to be but because it was the most practical use of her English Degree. Now, in her mid fifties, she abandoned it all to take a nine dollar an hour job in a nursing home. She's broke, but seems to like it better.

I think about the great artists of the world. Most of them didn't worry about "what will I do with this?". Not because they were the priviliged leisure class. Some were, some weren't. But because they had such an overwhelming commitment that there was no other way to be.

And I wonder if there doesn't come a time when you either have faith or you don't. Have faith in your dreams. Have faith in the universe. Have faith that the long shot will work out better for you than the sure thing, and that the path of least resistance is not always the best one.

I'm not sure where all this fits in with the grand scheme of things. I am sure that shooting for constant practicality is not the way to go, though. That perhaps the right blend of common sense and risk taking is the only thing that keeps us alive, keeps us experiencing life and fends off the drudgery that would otherwise numb our minds and dull our personalities.