Why?

Cynthia: God, don't you ever feel like everything we do and everything we've been taught is just to service the future?
Tony: Yeah I know, like it's all preparation.
Cynthia: Right. But what are we preparing ourselves for?
Mike: Death.
Tony: Life of the party.
Mike: It's true.
Cynthia: You know, but that's valid because if we are all gonna die anyway shouldn't we be enjoying ourselves now? You know, I'd like to quit thinking of the present, like right now, as some minor insignificant preamble to something else.
- Dazed and Confused.

It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.
- Ricky Fitts, American Beauty.

Roamer, wanderer
Nomad, vagabond
Call me what you will.
- Wherever I may roam, Metallica.

Nothing of this is important. Nothing at all. The useless study material we need to go through before the exams. Thick books filled to the brim with formulae which I'm sure we're never going to use again. All of it is a waste of time. All of it. I'm surprised such people exist. People who believe that remembering the ten principles of material handling can make one a better engineer. Knowing the Bresenhem code for a point inside a rectangle doesn't make a man a better person. I know a few who can tell you the log of 46 without opening the log-book, but inform them of an awesome weather outside with thoughts of getting out and roaming around playing in your head and they'll stare at you with questioning looks. Summers are no different from winters for them except that they feel more sleepy in winters which affects the number of hours they can study for at a stretch, which in turn affects their pointer. Jobs don't make sense. They just rob you of your intelligence. They put you in a cubicle, give you a chair to sit on and a computer to do their pointless work on. Some say the ultimate aim of any human being is to earn, reproduce, and settle down. But is it? We're habitants of a planet revolving around a huge hot mass. We're on a planet that has had the fortune of having life on it. Not ordinary life. Life like us. Complex beings. We're on one huge planet. The ground beneath our feet is full of brown dirt, yellow sand, and grey roads. Isn't there enough to explore and see and observe? Instead of all the awesomeness that we should be enlightening ourselves of, we keep busy trying to meet expectations. Expectations that our parents burden us with. We prefer not to be burdened. But, owing to the genetic bondage, we have to. Twenty years gone. Poof. Twenty years, which makes it more than 5000 days. And just one day can make one high, high on all the beauty in this world, and enough to be inspired. If fame and money makes more sense than personal satisfaction, then it sucks. I'm sick of being shouted at for not studying. Not remembering utterly useless stuff, if I may. I hate to think of an entity other than myself as being in control of my own fate. Why can't I just hit the road when I want to? There's just so much of beauty around, that I hate doing the things that I'm wasting time in doing. For every minute spent in thinking about the ways I can clear an exam the next day, I'm wasting a minute of awesome weather and open roads. I know I'm going to end up walking on the same road as most do, but I would like to differ.

Click,
and the key's in.
Turn,
and gear light's green.
Kick,
and The Thump's alive.