I’ve always had a fondness for alliterative polysyllabic pairs, likely stemming from Calvin’s apprehension towards being called a “pair of pathetic peripatetics,” from Calvin & Hobbes’ September 15th, 1993 strip. As a child, Calvin’s words flew right over my head, but the whimsical cadence it made — in my head, of course; who reads text out loud when they’re alone? —has stayed in my mind for years.
Aimless apprehension, to me, encompasses the inevitable uncertainty that those in their 20s face. Of course, there are those select few that seem to have things all planned out: two kids by 30 (a boy and a girl), house in the suburbs, white picket fence, a dog with its own Instagram account…the dream, y’know? However, nowadays those are far and few between. Just read one of the thousands of “problems with millenials” blogs out there.
If you’re looking for an answer, you best look further, because I ain’t gonna be any help. If anything, I might just amplify that ineffable ambivalence. Hell, the creation of this post is in reaction to my inability to articulate to anyone else — or myself, really — what I want to do. Hopefully you won’t get tired of reading stream-of-consciousness writing from a complete stranger you have no attachment to.
But hey, if you’re looking to follow (another) someone trudging through their tenuous twenties — I do wish they were roarin’ instead — then here I am.