I don’t think I’ve ever said it outloud
but typing it seems to be the best bet right now…but my greatest fear
next to dolls, death, and getting an F…is being unsuccessful in the one thing that I think I’m good at
I can think as long as I want, try to conjure up something that I think I am good at besides writing, and the only think I can come up with is that I’m really good at making coffee and looking at someone in their eyes for long periods of time.
So whether or not I would like to become a Starbucks worker or a creeper in my future is still in question. However, writing is my best bet.
I thought emersing myself in the thought of becomeing a medical practicioner would be the life I want to live. However, I can not seem to imagine myself in that world. I want to live. I want to read good books, I want to travel the world, I want to experience experiences people only dream about experiencing. I want to be that person that people are jealous of because they can clearly seen that my happiness is genuine. I see this life when writing.
I can see myself writing in journals that have no lines in villas in Italy. I can picture the faces of my readers so delighted to meet the person that shaped a world that they loved.
Yet, I can not think that this picture that I’ve created in my mind will not live up to reality. I am so terrified at the thought that during my pursuit of this future, I will be shot down; leaving me only to grieive the life I could have had.
But, I think…I would be a goddamn coward if I didn’t atleast try to achieve my dreams. This will fuel me. My ink will fuel me. My hopes will fuel me. These words will fuel me.