From my younger years
Tale no.1
As a teenage girl, I used to find solace in writing. Most of what I wrote never saw the light of day, it was self-dismissed as “not good enough” or “just a rambling”. But, as I stand here and now, almost 30 years of age, I realize all I was and all I am are merging together more and more and taking shape of self-acceptance.
Based on this, I have decided to publish the works I find relevant to the online medium and I also hope there is learning and enjoyment out of it, not just by myself, but by others as well.
So here it goes. A series of tales, from my younger years.
I used to think we have all the time in the world. I have time for everything. I have time to live, to learn, to make mistakes, to become stronger, to be good, to be evil and to start over. I used to think everything could be achieved one day, when the time would become right.
Is there such a thing as a right time or do we make our own right time? Is it too late when we feel regret over things we have not yet achieved? I used to know a famous saying without feeling the true meaning behind it: there is more to life than this. Well, I’m asking myself: Is there? I used to believe we can become everything we put in mind to be, effortlessly and regardless of other trivial and meaningless events surrounding the master plan.
And in my quest for searching answers, I have discovered a frightening revelation which in turn could build or easily crumble not only my life, but also the lives of those surrounding me: Do I have a single master plan or are there many variations which oscillates accordingly to my mood? Am I unstable in my quest to tame life?
And finally, are these questions that only strike me every time I’m unease about my life or is this something normal, as part of human design?
Am I allowed to question everything, to deny what I have when I have it, to reject what I enjoy when I enjoy it just under the cruel explanation of being human? Or am I something of a mixed content, outcast from an already demoralized society, yet integrated perfectly under the mediocre status of social welfare?
Am I under a great mission, destined to fully live my life, or is this everything I have to offer? Am I reduced to numbers and piles of paper and strict methodological pursuit? Or is there…
More to life than this? …
Written in April 2013
