It seems there are endless directions one could take in a life. The inevitable "burden of freedom"--our terrible curse and secret joy. You make the usual pro and con lists, weigh the balance, map out possibilities and the potential latent within each one. You try using differing criteria: What if X wasn't a limitation? What would I want then? You take your time, rid yourself of emotion, attempt to be as objective as possible, all so that you have nothing to regret. That the promise certain professors supposedly saw in you will be justified somehow. The days pass, the weeks, the months...and you know something will have to be done. But what? And where? The novelty of intention fades with the waning light of each old sky and you wonder if certainty will ever step beyond myth and into your seaside room.
Never say never.