I'm Having an Existential Crisis

Seriously.

Like, here's what's happening:

Option A:

Become a mortician/funeral director. Go and have this big life and do all these big things in bigger places. (And move death from 'hobby' to 'career'.)

Option 2:

Get a small, nice apartment in a rainy little town, get a job at a pet store, start up a publishing/art company and have a nice life as a kind of jack-of-all-trades artist. (And be able to say 'Oh, no, no, it's just a hobby' when someone asks me if I'm obsessed with death.)

So.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

They both sound fun.

But, honestly, I'm leaning more toward option two.

I can get a job at a small shop or something - something I wouldn't hate is about all I ask for - and write and crochet and make clothes and make video games and scrounge together friends and funds for a small production company where we can work on the scripts that have been piling up.

That would just be wonderful.

Extra Crap:

I want to do a project here pretty soon - Open Real-Time Worlds (ORTW). It's similar to an ARG but without a strong 'Go here, Do this, Collect this' element, which basically means that it's a world that anyone can just play around in and 'enter' through blogs or social sites or LARP (Live-Action Role-Play) - basically, you're in it as long as you want to be. There are established rules but aside from that you create your character and how they live and all of that within the 'new world' and the rule set.

I can explain this a little better later, hopefully, but I've just always liked the idea of people spazzing and cosplaying and drawing things for things that don't technically exist except for in the collective minds of people who are in on the world and having fun with it.

I think it's a neat idea. Like, I can compile lists of fashions and foods and music and actors and movies, all from these worlds of mine... because I am insane. But I still want to share my toys.

*sigh* I have way too many ideas for my own good.

Also, this was interesting: How Chuck Wendig Writes a Novel.

Aside from all of that... well, not much else has been happening. Grandma's doing well and Grandpa's going in on the third to see about getting the cataract in his left eye removed - good thing, too, because he missed the gate with that truck of his by about four inches the other day.

I'm going to go talk to mum after dinner and well see if we can't hash out what exactly I need to be doing and what steps I need to take.

I'm all mixed up, I think. I love the idea but there's that little, socially engrained part of my brain that says 'Artists have no security! This little, bohemian 'thing' isn't a plan! Do something more safe and normal!'

Obviously, the answer is a gritty, in-your-face 'No'. But still, it's distressing. Can I just... live, for a little while? It's not like I'll be relying on income from that right off the bat - I'll have a job somewhere.

*sigh*

I'm gonna go panic a bit and then work this out.

Bye for now, guys! (Wish me luck, calm things, a clear head, and sugar.)