Okay, here's the deal. I like school sometimes. I like reading books and analyzing them in detail, discussing every aspect and finding 500 little, seemingly unimportant details on one page, that later turn out to be hugely infuential on the plot of the book. I like writing essays on novels, short stories, poems and plays. I like using the two languages I'm actually good at for playing with, and I enjoy building beautiful sentences. I enjoy varying my language to the point of absurdity, and I enjoy observing grammatical similarities and stylistical differences between texts. I love it when I can tell what a foreign word means just by associting it with other languages, and I love when I find that the three languages I take have some kind of similarity.

Ironically- really bad English in this entry but I'm too angry to care.

Today, there was a meeting in school with our guidance cancelor, and I started thinking seriously about studying in Lund next year. So I told my mom, and she asked me what I wanted to study. I don't know, I say, I just saw some class about English literature and some language-culture stuff and it seemed interesteing, but I'm not really sure what profession I could have after that. My mom starts dissing everything I say, claiming that I'll end up as a teacher just because there won't be anything to do. Well... duh, that's what I just said, but why would I become a teacher? No offence teachers of cyberspace, but teaching is not something I'd like to do. My mom keeps repeating this, and she's been doing this for like three years now.

No, she says, don't take a year off, you won't want to go back to school and you'll end up at "Lärarhögskolan", just to pay your bills. Don't study languages, there's nothing you can do after that except for teaching and reporting, and we've been through this before, there's no future in either. You wanted to become a journalist when you were a kid, but thank God, your Dad convinced you otherwise when you were 16. The result of this, however, is that you have no future goals whatsoever, and no aims, and no dreams, except for a vague vision of general prosperity and happiness.

Yeah. I ask my mom, come on, you have to realise that there's more I could do after language studies except for teaching and journalism! Mom says she really doesn't think so.

I think I know there's other things to do, but no matter if there are or not, languages are the only school subjects that really interest me and the only thing I could picture myself working with for the rest of my life. It's kind of dramatic, but it's my life, and I want to do something good with it. And I want it to be fun. No, I don't want to end up teaching, but I REALLY don't want to find myself halfway through some lame engineering program in three years, because I don't even like science. I don't want to be a doctor, because I don't think I have the stamina for it. I don't know what I want to do so fuck you, everyone.

I've slept three hours this night so I'm gonna cry some more now. Bye.