It's always the same story, all the time

Well,
I believe I have put myself once again in doubt of myself.
What a neurotic, existentialist hedonist I am.

I guess I don't know where I'm heading to, what's my next step.

Of course, there was always a direction to go to. There was always an arrow pointing to the barren lands of Down Under, but once I got here and finally picked myself up from the shock of coming to these quirky lands, I am not sure where to go anymore.

The arrow should be pointing somewhere,
but I don't know where.
Heck, I can't even see if there is an arrow anymore.

Sometimes I get the feeling that my life will end soon.
It is not an expression of suicide, fear not. Please. Enough of that stuff anyway.
But I just can't imagine myself graduating from university. Or even getting my career on track, or even owning my own car and house. Getting married, having kids. Paying mortgage, paying debt (my worst nightmare). I just can't imagine myself doing it!
And I have this feeling that somewhere along the line, I will never get to do those things. It is foolish of me.

It sounds just weird, but I just wouldn't know how the hell to do things. I finally can drive legally (fuck yeah), and started uni, but there is just quite a range of things that are assumed as common for Australians of my age that I cannot even do, that I may have no idea about.

It's always been like that, even when I arrived here, I had no idea of how to deal with things, partly people, but mostly about how different things are run here. And I always feel disadvantaged in that respect.

And I know it's bitchy to comment on this sort of stuff online, and even specifically on my blog. But what the hell. That's the first thing I found when I came into my room. Gotta get my head a bit organized. Then I suppose I can sleep a bit better at night.