It has been way too long since I have sat down and actually written a piece for myself.
It feels as if my life has been one significant event portraying another; I have not seen an extended break in a very long time. Although as I grow, I begin to imagine myself without these magnificent events taking place. That is exactly what they are. Good or bad, they have pushed me further along and I cannot see them as otherwise.
This past month was supposed to play out in a completely different way than it ended up. A month ago, I had planned for months upon months to attend college for creative writing. It had been a plan that had been intently thought out since January—but something always didn’t feel right about it. I kept on constantly questioning my writing abilities. Was I going to be enough for the program? Were the others going to be more creative than me? Will they have more ideas? Where will I be afterwards—if not further ahead at all? As these silly questions began to weigh on my mind with what seemed like effortless attention, I began to wonder if It was my time to make such a big decision in my life. I knew with every bit of my being that writing is what I longed to do, yet maybe I was good enough all along.
I felt like I had given up on the dream of my eternity. I started to ponder deeper on this thought. We are told from such a youthful age that college HAS to be the route we take. We are told that if we don’t—we will never land the job of our dreams and that we will be stuck working a 9-5 that we despise. Instead of shoving this idea down young and impressionable children’s throats, maybe we should teach them to embrace their talents. To reach for the stars in everything and anything they do. To never give up on a dream that voluntarily fills that void within them. Having a dream is such an incredibly magical thing to have in this universe. It means that we see past this harsh reality that is given to us. That was writing for me and it always will be. I don’t do it for the money. I don’t want to pursue it to have my name in alluring bright lights. I do it because it has always been the one sole activity that keeps me sane and grounded. That is why I have never given up on the one thing that sets my soul on fire.
The arts are needed in this world and I don’t listen to anybody that tells me otherwise. We are the writers, the poets, the playwrights; but above all we are the dreamers. Dreamers never completely have reality set in amongst them and that is actually the best gift to be given in this cruel world. We find an abundance amounts of happiness in projects that are formed within our own mind and hearts.
We don’t give up.
I just had my eighteenth birthday pass and I’ve never felt more alive. I finally feel like a burden has been effortlessly lifted off of me and I can breathe amongst the current. I am finally honing in on all of my creative talents. I have been writing and working on so many different projects, it almost doesn’t feel real. I told myself before doing so, it is okay to take and break and think through things. After doing so, I didn’t write for myself in weeks. I needed a break from all of the thoughts of the universe until one remained—my own. That will always be the most prominent to me and I will never let the voices of others alter my decisions.
I am now working full-time in a job that brings me happiness. I write and journal my thoughts every single day. I paint, I write poetry. I am continuing to grow my love for the arts and meeting all kinds of people that do so as well. I feel as if those are always the ones who are genuine. They believe in themselves enough to not give up on a passion just because they don’t have a degree. That is significantly powerful to me and inspires me in so many ways.
I cannot wait to see where some of my projects go. Above all, I finally feel like myself again and that is all I truly will ever ask from myself. To never lose sight of who I am, before I become who I need to be.
I love every single one of you and I wish you the best in your endeavors as well <3