i know i'll have a good life if things go to plan. i know that i'll finish my dissertation and graduate, and get a position as a research assistant. i know that there is a trajectory and i'll follow it to plan. i'll maybe move to melbourne, that's what you do. try save money, drink and take photos of unfamiliar buildings. i'll go travelling and have my overseas adventure. i'll update my facebook and my tumblr and my blog from foreign airports and these are the best years of your life. i'll do my masters and eventually i'll get a PHD. i'll start as a tutor and some university will hire me and my career in academia will go just as it is supposed to. i'll travel some more, get a house that has polished wood floors. my fridge will have things like pesto and halloumi in it, if i haven't gone vegan by then. two kinds of mustard, fresh herb garden and a few bottles of wine that cost more than twenty dollars. i'll have some lovers and we'll have profound experiences and they'll leave and someone else will come. i'll have a baby or she will, we'll give it some pseudo-European middle-class name like Ava, Simone or Luca, and we'll struggle to maintain a work/life balance. i'll read and write about class war and gender inequality and racial discord and i'll be worried about climate change and i'll feel guilty for my bourgeois life but i'll probably enjoy it.
i think i am looking forward to this, or maybe i feel unaffected. maybe i feel lucky. i know that what i feel is scared because i have always been scared about getting sick, and no one in their twenties gets cancer but some people do and i am terrified that it will be me and i'm just waiting for the news that will shatter everything