Is life a series of steps, landmarks, checkpoints?

As I analyse texts
in my inbox,
like a jumped up English student.
A bloody agony aunt.

Has it come to this?

Thought I had it all worked out,
what I had to do
and what to do after that.
Graduate, get a job, get married, have kids.

Why am I inclined to follow this format,
it tears me apart?

I'm different, no I'm normal.
I can't, yes I can.
I'm lonely, I want to be popular.
I'm popular, I want to be lonely.

Does she like me? Why? Oh, she doesn't really.

Got to create the right impression,
speak well, dress well, good hair.
Got to train more,
do more sit ups, press ups.

Is this hair wax compatible with my hair type?
What do these clothes say about me?
This is the last coat I will ever need - £240 sir.

How many numbers do I have on my mobile?
How many texts do I get?
How many msn contacts do I have?

Need more money,
need to go out more,
need new friends,
need a girl.

Why do I seek completeness,
it is impossible?

I want it to be perfect,
my life but
it's so gloriously imperfect.

What can I do next to improve myself?

I'm happy and sad,
I'm cool and insecure.

Will I ever be able to let go?

I hope.