"What do you do?" "I Live"

Dear Future Me? Who are you now?? I have a reoccurring dream. A dream of how my life would be, if I had been dealt different cards or perhaps if I hadn't been me at all. I would travel constantly, across Europe, the Americas, Asia, etc. and live there for short spurts of time. I would be working whatever jobs I can get, and, more importantly, whatever jobs excite me. I would try new experiences and live resourcefully. I cannot pretend, even in my dreams, that capitalism and social media would not have its hold on me but I like to think I would be distant enough from it to be happy. I am not alone. I have a gorgeous man with me, who loves me deeply and truly, and is searching for purpose and reason as much as I am. In my hopeful dream, he makes me feel worthy of love, safe from that dulling emptiness of self-loathing, and as for him, I love him for who he is. No projections of fictitious characters or personifications of physical qualities, no, I love him as how he was moulded by life's cruel irony, as I was. Whether it be by car or boat, in motel or rented city apartment, each new season we would be in a new place as new, untainted beings. We would have no prior expectations to live up to, no assumptions to play down, or skeletons to bury. Like puffed, pink newborns, we would be unblemished, despite our original sin. And whilst we glide down the Interrail train track, we would take a final glimpse at the photographs we took, before placing the cool metal camera to the bottom of the bag. As we work to live the unique life we want, we collect small trinkets of our travels. China and spices and cloths and glass would make up the materials of our home. Where would that be? Well, the dream changes its resting place each sleep. If events at my parents' house are somewhat calm, perhaps we will return here, although the likelihood decreases each moment. The house, our home, would store the past life particles whilst we prepare to travel once more. Fundamentally, the dream acts as a stress reliever. When academic tensions are high, a dream where I **** the pre-destined path for me, tear up the ivy brick road, block by block, seems to release all pressure from my cooking head. I am sending this to you as I predict you are finishing the lauded path of higher education - do you have further plans? Are they soul-destroying? Consider the dreams of your seventeen year old counterpart and question: would life be so horrid if you led it instead of following it?