today was not wasted

Here I am, writing from early Tuesday morning. In seven hours I will wake up fully into the Tuesday ahead of me, fully begin living the day. But for now these are the hours of Tuesday without any drive or goal or real destination.
This is the real Tuesday and the first Tuesday of the rest of my life because while these early hours of the morning may seem like they are wasted, for what better use could I put them to? Right now I'm content and complacent, eyes barely open and entire body tingly and numb with the smooth night-hour air. It feels different right now than it does from any other time of the day and I can appreciate it without worrying about things that need to be done or something else pressing and mindnumbing.
It's so easy to be swept away in the daylight hours, so easy to think that life has this huge goal and purpose and meaning behind it. If you're not working or doing this or achieving that, you're wasting what little life you have. Allegedly, I guess. What does it all add up to in the end?
Your hours spent in a career you hate, earning money to pay off a house and raise your family and all the while racing your biological clock, every tick echoing like Big Ben across the vast London of your insides seems to be the real American dream, hell, anyone's dream. What everyone works for.
Go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a job so you can make money so you can find a hot wife so you can have kids so you can move to the suburbs so you can raise a family so your children can go to school so they can support you when you're older than dirt and can't remember how to poop so you can wake up every morning and do the same thing over and over. That's the purpose driven life, what everyone wants. To put this meaning into their lives.
But I don't want my life to have this huge overhanging meaning. I don't want the pressure of having to achieve this and that and make money or raise a family. I don't want to try and beat death, try and make the most money or land the hottest piece of ass. I don't want my life to be spent waking up to do the same thing as the day before: commuting to work, driving under the overpass, aptly tagged with "good morning lemmings".

People always say life is so short when really, what can you do that's longer? There's the belief of the eternal soul, I guess. But when you die, you probably just die.

Shit, I just want to do what pleases me, if I'm broke off my ass and smiling you couldn't find me happier. Other people seem happier knowing something has a purpose, a reason. But no matter what you do, you die. Any route you take, any move, or mistake, or choice. . . anything. You die. I don't understand why so many people don't just live out their lives how they want instead of having so many regrets, moments where they say "I should have done this, I should have done that. . . " There is no rhyme or reason behind life. Even if you get super rich and have a huge family, you die just the same as a train hopping hobo on the sidewalk. As long as you die with a smile on your face you're probably doing it right. Even if you die all cool and covered in blood and guts and stuff its still probably pretty awesome.

It's like the song 10 Things by Paul Baribeau. Well, not the bloody gutty part but you know.
I think I might sleep now.
See you on the flip side, blog.