This week is all too real. The dreaded new year's eve is coming upon me. I am not ready. This year kind of sucked. There were a lot of great moments sprinkled in; they kept me going. But there was also a lot of tough moments.
I have heard that your twenties are the toughest years but I didn't realize that the last year of my twenties would be one of the hardest, life-facing years. My whole future, it seemed, was thrust upon me as a question that I must answer.
In my second week of vacation, I decided to do a little organizing. In doing so, I came upon some old writing of mine and was faced with very similar feelings from a younger me. In an assignment for a career planning class (haha-much that helped) I wrote this:
"...maybe I want to be a writer/novelist, photographer, actor...anyone one of those sounds fun...but I don't think I have enough talent for those. I hate to see myself end up in a boring but professional job. I don't want to be stuck in a cube the rest of my life. I want to...visit many places. I want the unreachable, untouchable what people only dream about. I want to have what I'm afraid I'll never have. I wonder if everyone else has felt this way at some point or...if I'm only one of the few that have felt what I feel now... [I am] too wrapped up in nothing. [I] work, come home, go out with friends, come home, sleep, and the cycle continues...What happened to all that was once important? Now nothing seems important anymore...What am I going to do about it? Nothing, probably. Why? Because I am scared...I'm scared of what I have become."
I cannot allow myself lose the dream. I have traveled and will continue to do so. I will write, regardless of whether it turns into a career or not. I will not allow myself to get stuck in an endless cycle of mindlessness. I will be scared but I will not let it deter me.
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