I did it. It's done. I'm not quite sure it's whats expected or it's what I should have said but it's done. I have a personal statement. Maybe somewhere in there, there's even a philosophy. But I don't want to get ahead of myself.

I'm posting it on the off chance that someone has constructive criticism I can use...or you know shameless flattery. I like that too...

A little over two years ago, a friend of mine asked me to help her with something. She needed a wingman for an idea she’d be toying with. She wanted to vandalize public property. She wanted to use sidewalk chalk. We hit a police station and a Starbucks. We scrawled “Closed for Reformation” on a Catholic church that was under construction. It was fun. We thought we were being very clever.

It occurs to me now that everything we do is a result of this intricate game we play with fate. Tug-of-war on a universal scale. We can’t win. We never will. All that’s left to do is see how far we can push it.

In international relations, it’s called “ brinksmanship.” The practice of taking a dispute to the verge of conflict in order force concessions from the opposition. But it’s also scribbling messages in chalk on the street in front of a police station at midnight then running when you see lights. It’s starting a paper the night before it’s due. It’s doing your taxes on the 14th of April. It’s creating drama because it’s better than just letting things happen to you.

My friend and I, we didn’t really break the law. Had we been caught we would have gladly hosed it all down. She had to do it though. She was leaving for Governor’s School later that week. She was a model student. But something in her had to step to that line and play with the thought of crossing. She had to see how far she could go.

People keep asking me what my goals are. What I want to be when I grow up. The truth is I’m not entirely sure. When I was 5, I wanted to train dolphins. When I was 10, I wanted to be an FBI agent. When I was 15, I seriously considered running away to the circus. Now I want to write. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that’s been consistently fulfilling; even at it’s most frustrating.

Fueling all of that though— the writing, the dolphin training, even running off to find Barnum and Bailey— is an overwhelming desire to wake up tomorrow morning and not be utterly boring. To go to bed at night knowing more than I did when I woke up. To do it all over again the next day. I don’t want to go through life waiting for the world to come along. I’d rather set up a permanent residence on that brink.

I wish I could say, “I want to be a doctor and that’s why I need to go to college.” It would make for a much simpler essay, albeit a dull one. But my aspirations have never been that cut and dry. School isn’t a means to an end for me…I don’t have an end. I can’t honestly say that I have to go to school for four more years. But I can tell you I want to. Badly. If nothing else, it’ll push me closer to where I want to be. It’ll make me smarter tomorrow than I am right now.