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how they want me to be

what if i don't want to be how they want me to be? maybe i don't want to be an adult. maybe i don't want bills and responsibilities and obligations and debt and worry. perhaps i just want to play music on street corners with the guitar case open for stray coins and green paper, or to just as happily accept a smile and a kind word. perhaps i want to go work with my hands on a farm in iceland, or maybe i want to sell everything i have and live nomadically. what if people and cement scare me, and i don't want to live in a city? maybe i don't want an "education" that will leave me slowly working away at my sanity to try to rise through a corporate glass ceiling? maybe i just want to marry a lumberjack with a scruffy beard and strong arms and move to a cabin in the forest. maybe i don't want to be how they want me to be.