I’m at that point in my life where I’m really questioning if everything I’ve done for the last twenty-four years were worth it. If all the heartbreaks, lost friendships, gained friendships, bad grades, good grades, sleepless nights, happy, and sad moments really had some grand divine purpose.
I received nearly perfect grades up until college, obeyed my parents, have never gotten in real trouble, and still have had a rather eventful life. Not the amazing “Wow I’m so blessed life” but the “Wow. why do bad things happen to me?” one. I don’t blame my bad fortune on anyone, I never have. But I’ve come to realize it doesn’t really matter if you’re perfect, or a screw up a lot, because crappy things happen to everyone.
I haven’t spoken to a lot of the people I care about in awhile, because life hasn’t been going according to plan. I wanted to be in LA right now, working part time as a waitress or something, and the other part of my time as an intern for some film production company. I wanted to be making connections, and gaining life stories and knowledge. Instead, I’ve been stuck in Chicago, trying to get any job that I could, and failing miserably. Living at home with my parents and other adult siblings. Resorting back into my teen life style that I hated so dearly. All of this sucks, but I’ve decided I could just go deeper into loathing myself and my life. Or I could take bolder chances. Throw caution to the wind. I used to be one of the most cautious people ever, as my previous paragraph suggested, and yet things in my life seriously got out of control sometimes.
So I think it’s time for me to buy more tickets. Take more rides.
We all die, no matter if we look both ways before crossing the street, or not, but we don’t all get to live. I’m choosing to live. Booking a no return flight to LA very soon.