To ancient gods and old friends

I have a question about answering a particular question that bothers me.
How does a person like me answer that deceptively simple question asked at most polite social gatherings by scarcely-met relatives and acquaintances: " So what are you planning to do after college?"
How do you politely break it to them that "after college" is like a black hole you don't wish to look into? How do you break it to them that you are "between dreams", as it were? That your effective plans for the future have been trampled on and you're looking at Stage One with no more energy or enthusiasm to script a new dream. That you've been pushed into Cynicdom and Un-belief. That the hope you'd had of scripting your own future has been effectively flushed down the toilet, and once again, you're standing on the threshold of making the decision of living your real life on the sidelines, just letting that portion fill up the cracks in an otherwise solid block of "I-don't-caredness".
The answer is, you don't. You just smile as usual (while inwardly squirming) and reply with something socially acceptable; preferably impressive sounding, list a couple of Ivy League universities off the top of your tongue, paint your prospects the colour of money; and equally fake.


Another thing, on a completely unrelated track.
I was watching Star Wars Episode I: A Phantom Menace the other night. Now, anyone who has known me at all in the past, will know about how addicted and crazy I am about Star Wars. Once upon a time it was my one and only obsession. But this time, I dunno, for the first time in my life, I couldn't relate to what was going on on screen. I was (I found my own self going "hawwwwwwwww!!" when I realized it!!) quite bored. Now, I know I've seen Ep I atleast 50 times before, but with Star Wars, getting bored is NOT an option! And this was supposedly my most favourite of the Star wars series!! I began to nitpick with the technicalities, notice flaws in the script, think how banal the dialogue was, wonder why George Lucas (once my hero) couldn't have done something worthwhile like Frank Coppola and Steven Spielberg have................in short, absolutely blasphemous thoughts had begun to course through my brain.
Growing up is hard. But to realize that old ideals, fantasies and worlds have no meaning for you any more, is a different ball game. It startled me when I realized it and began making me question how much I myself had changed to cause these corresponding changes to take place. Something I had once thought impossible had now actually happened. One cannot remain a child forever or take childhood with oneself when one grows up, but to lose a fundamental fantasy, something that had been such an integral, fun part of my life before, was jarring. It was like losing a bit of myself, especially a part I was extremely fond of and secure with, something I had a great deal of affection for still. But I also realized another thing. This had been coming and I had only been denying myself the inevitable. After a point, you just have to hold the funeral, shed your tears, and move on. I think I buried Star Wars the other night. My memories of them have probably become just that, memories, something that will fade in time. Somewhere along the line, I had left my Neverland behind.