What decides a path that someone follows?
Is it the journey, their path, or is it their pain?
It could be all of them and it could be none.
Are our lives predetermined, or is everything impulsive, and wild like a forest fire?
I write this as I creep closer to my quarter-life-crisis. It won’t be long before I’ve been here for 25 years and sometimes I feel like the world is at my fingertips yet other times I get an overwhelming desire to walk away from the world and its fire.
I think the biggest journey for me, for this lifetime, was having a child. I made the mistake of having a child with someone who wasn’t sure of what she wanted and not even a second thought to the things you have to do, as opposed to the things you want to do. You see, with me the things that I have to do are easy. The things I want to do are harder. Sometimes they involved pushing people away so I can concentrate, or even giving myself enough space to push through the bristles of the brush that is life. You know, the one you try to squeeze through the gaps of when it tries to brush you away with each stroke.
I’ve spent so many years, already, being serious. Too long I’ve spent not smiling, and too long I’ve spent giving in to the negativity of this, that, or the other. Well, I’ve confronted metaphoric wolves, metaphoric foxes, metaphoric spiders, and metaphoric everything else. I mean–I don’t mean real wolves–of course. What I do mean though is that sometimes I can relate people to having anthropomorphic characteristics. Usually, you can tell who’s fierce and who is brave. You can tell who rushes into things head first and even the ones who save.
But, after spending over 2 years– trust me, it’s a long time for someone like me. Who talks and talks and talks, and thinks and thinks and thinks– They leave an imprint on you, like dirt on a blindingly white shirt. It marks you and takes a while for it to come off. When I finished that relationship I felt like I was wearing a white shirt that had more stains than white patches. But, you know what? Over the last couple of months, something strange had happened… something marvellous.
Sure, I’ve met new people and I’ve been to new places. I’ve started new things like YouTubing, and reading out my work. It makes me nervous but I like it… and it has helped. A lot, in fact. I think–no, I know I’m wearing a clean white shirt again and it’s time to put away the part of my life which I’d tried to hold onto for my daughter’s sake. Coming to the realisation that we’re better off without some people in our life has been the hardest decision for me to make but this is where I am now and I’m ready to move on with things.
So, sitting here today, in the library, and writing this– I’m in my second year — I’m loving it. I moan, and begrudge it at times but entirely… I don’t think I’ve smiled for this many consecutive days before and there’s no reason not to. Literally.
I don’t know what it is…
It could be the fact that I feel like I’m getting somewhere…
It could be because my daughter tells me she loves me twelve times a day…
It could be because I’m finally doing things I want to do…
It could be because I’m actually allowing myself to be happy…
I had a conversation with my friend yesterday, and we talked about how I’m not trying to control myself in every conversation… just… FUCK IT. Fuck trying to put a mask on or trying so hard to fit in, or even FUCK trying to ‘get serious’ and just have fun.
If you can’t have fun it isn’t worth doing.
Remember: The only person who can change your view is yourself, and that’s up to you.