Friday, 2 November 2012
Someone else's idea of perfect.
I knew a long time ago that I wanted to be a writer. Well, I thought I did. I know how easy it is to change what you want to be in the future- one minute you want to be a doctor, but then you realize it's too difficult so you decide you want to work in business instead, but business has no soul so you decide to be a teacher, but it doesn't pay well so ... the list goes on. I can recall around six professions I felt so certain of when I growing up- a doctor, a forensic investigator, an archaeologist (I blame Lara Croft and the Discovery Channel), a restaurant owner, a writer, and now, I want to work in Marketing, Advertising, or Media production. The ideas still aren't certain, but they're much more realistic and aligned to my goals now, at least?
As uncertain as I am with my future profession, I know by now that it will never be stuck in stone. As long as I enjoy what I'm doing, I'll be fine. However, there's this small voice at the back of my head and I can't help but feel guilty as I ignore it. "What about writing?" it asks.
Writing, for a long time, felt like my first love. I would dedicate so much time to this blog, I would use notebooks, even. But as I grew older and got busier with college and life, all the time I usually spent sharpening my sword (or pen, in this case- haha lame) was was dissolved. Now, I'm not even sure if I'm good at it. I can't commit to an idea long enough to write an actual story, nor can I just leave my blog blank.
I read a lot of blogs, usually among the lifestyle genre, and they're always so good. I think to myself, "Wow, she's witty!" or "I really like how she writes," and then my little dusty blog pops into my head and I just feel crappy, knowing that I haven't been writing in it as often as I want to. I want to be able to write blogs like them. I want to be able to talk about a life lesson in such a profound, insightful way, so I can blow all my readers minds and make them come back for more. I'm going to start practicing, that's for sure, but right now, I just can't do that. I can't write about the lesson life just taught me, but I do think I'm skilled at something else- I can write about feelings. I can write about the little moments in the heart, and I can dedicate three hundred words to those moments. Hey, three-hundred is a short blog post, but those are a lot of words for one little confusing feeling.
Snickerdoodled by Joanna