Let’s rewind.

moving city

I am sitting here staring at the screen. the word “future” is quite daunting. what does that word really mean.
I’m thinking. Still thinking.
Growing up, I always had the notion that everything in the future would fall perfectly into place. No worries were necessary. I would sit in my room or on a swing, dreaming to be a doctor or a teacher or [badass] superspy. Thanks, James Bond. But none of those ideals were that real for me. So, the career aspirations were boxed up, mentally that is – I’d instead focus on something else less important, more “fun.” Like searching for interesting people, making mud pies, watching chick flicks, chasing “the” boy. The parentals tried to get me interested in something constructive, something they knew I was good at (but I didn’t) – singing, piano, swimming, basketball, violin. None of that really stuck – apparently I saw zero value in all that. Looking back every so often, I’d slowly realize how ridiculous I was. Naivety was a strong point. So was being mad stubborn. Sometimes it’s okay to block out your notion of what’s “right” and just consider an outsider’s advice. It may turn out more practical, and less provincial. Oh silly me, I thought I knew everything. Slap on some years to that and here I am still figuring out who I am. It’s been a long battle, and I’m not done yet.
In all honesty, I’m not in the market for the normal, “settled” lifestyle – you know, steady 9-5 job, a loveless yet convenient marriage, shrieking mis-mannered kids, closet alcoholism, soccer mom vans, facial stress valleys. Thanks, but no thanks. I think there’s more to living than that rabbit hole. I may be sheltered but I’m opting for an alternative. I’ve learned from that long period of being a weird kid, of not pursuing what I was meant for, what I really want to do. Seems like the big man above has mercifully provided enough time for reflection these past few months. I’ve hit close to rock bottom at least three times. Conjured up some plans, severely revised them. Then chucked it all, and started over again. I’ve even considered packing one large backpack, full of necessities and jumping on a plane to Korea or Italy, hoping for the best. I’d look for work, even at some random restaurant or bake shop, to gain some valuable life experience around people not so friendly, not so nice. Classic brainstorming right there. Buuuut, it’s an idea that can just stay in sketch phase. I have a job lined up now.
So through all of that pure bliss, it’s become clearer. Writing is THE thing. In my gut, I feel it’s actually what I’m meant for. I’m almost there – apparently half the trip is figuring out where you’re headed. Who knew.
At some point in this lifetime, it’s important to harness responsibilities. To take some risks. To mess up badly. Sooner rather than later. And you know what, it’s fine to be a kid at heart, but you have to develop adult peripherals. The future is blurry, sure. No one knows what will happen exactly. But that’s okay, because then each day, we try our best to find out what lies ahead. Our destinies may seem unwritten now, but the ink stick isn’t in our hand anyway.

Libo. is. over.



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