Sailing by life and taking the path of least resistance have always been my style. I just never felt enough passion, excitement, or any of those feelings of positive reinforcement, to fully immerse myself in something. My thoughts will always run along the lines of “My effort will be wasted,” “What’s the point?” or “Does anyone ever really care?”
So here are several truths about me, things filed in the previously mentioned “Impossible” folder: I want to be someone extraordinary. I want to stand in a stadium full of thousands of screaming fans and sing my heart out. I want to pluck the strings on my guitar and have every single person entranced by the sound that I make. I want to stand in court and win case after case. I want to go to an airport and have someone chase after me and declare his undying love for me.
The bottom line is that I have no idea what happened to make me disconnected from the rush of life. I’ve had all these dreams, so why did I let 18 years pass without me taking risks, banging through doors and making people notice that I actually exist? My pursuit of happiness hasn’t exactly been interesting.
I am young and jaded—this much is true. It pisses me off because I always feel like I’m constantly caged in a prison of my own making. The truth is that I am a coward who is always passing up opportunities. I know that I am young, so I can’t really be upset about my life yet. There is this general belief that the youth aren’t entitled to be upset about life because of the simple fact that we haven’t lived long enough to experience real sadness.