That fateful few days....and everything after that.

You know what I'm talking about.
Your first few nights at college.
Anything and everything was possible. You had so much to look forward to, so many people to make out with, so many drinks to consume, so many drugs to try, etc. It all seemed so big, no matter how small your campus was.
Fast forward four years.
You begin to realize that the things that seemed possible, the aspirations that you toted around in your pretty little head, that was either way up in the clouds, or rammed up your professors ass because you never went to a single lecture, but needed that A for your transcript (which, in time you've learned means absolutely nothing in the real world), have somehow all turned out to be bleak. Impossible. Or even worse: possible, with a little dedication and a lot of hard work. I know. FUCK THAT.
What ever happened to instant gratification? Do less, get more. I suppose that only works if you're a drunk frat boy who happens to be reasonably good looking. Those dudes used to get laid left and right. But even their lives got seriously derailed after college. They're balding, they have what appears to be a "drinking problem", and they actually have to respect women.
All of my realizations about life, post-college, have led me to believe that happiness is not an emotion. Well I mean, it is, obviously. But in my opinion, happiness is a privilege. Not in the sense that it can be handed to you by your rich father, or wealthy dead relatives. But rather, something you work hard for, and reap the benefits of. It requires effort, a clear, conscious effort to be truly, genuinely, sublimely happy. And the problem is, we, as the generation of the information age, who are so disgustingly used to getting things without trying very hard, don't know how to put in this effort. Not even for our own happiness. We're entirely too lazy to even figure out what it is, that could make us happy. We chase money, like everyone who came before, like everyone who will come after. We chase money because we are taught that it's the right thing to do, the only thing to do. And realistically speaking, it is. No one can sustain any lifestyle, without money. I can't. Neither can you. And right before that dude died at the end of "into the wild" I bet he was wishing he had a cell phone and some money to get his ass out of the shitty situation he got himself into.
It's a fact of life. And it sucks. I wish I could rewind 4 years, and still have a positive outlook. Still believe things were possible. Still believe in myself. Still believe in the power of my dreams.
At this point, if I can't see it, I won't believe it.
I guess I miss college, or maybe I just miss being younger. Having less responsibility. Having more to look forward to. Right now, this is my life. And since I'm getting paid for it to be my life, I'm assuming it will be my life for a while. Because I can't stop getting paid. Bills come every month, and they need to be taken care of, whether I bitch about it, or not. The banks want their loans back, the landlords want their rent. I succumb. We all do.

Sorry for the bitter rantings.
But, no I'm not.