Here I sit, recumbant on my bed. I feel like someone who's just been shown their precise place in the universal plan and been disappointed by it. Although I haven't...

Is it a bad thing that I just want to travel and explore? I'm worthy of university, and would love the lifestyle and people, but I don't think I can be bothered with the work... I don't believe in destiny, at least I don't think I do, but I feel as if something's waiting for me; waiting for me to choose it, to go and find it, to realise what it is that's waiting... I feel as if I am capable of something great, but I don't know what that something is. If I'd been alive during the Renaissance then I think I'd be fine, although on the run from the Roman Catholic Church... That is to say, I can't think of anything to do that hasn't already been done. All the philosophies have been philosophised...

Should I study physics at university and gain credibility, or should I study acting and annoy my mother and brother by not fulfilling my intellectual potential? I'm beginning to feel like a "black sheep"... Why does everything feel so futile?

I don't think there can be anyone who could give me the "correct" answer, but artistic people seem like the best to ask for satisfying answers. Not that by writing this I'm asking many. But if you have read this and have any kind of opinion then I'd like to hear it.