The Future Set in Waves

If I meet my self in 20 years time, will I be able to recognize myself? 

If I look back to the past, will I have sweet nostalgia or bitter memory?

Will there be a permanent frown plastered on my face, or will my face be lined with countless laugh lines? 

Will I teach my kids to do whatever it is they want as long as they’re happy or will I teach them to suck it and endure as long as they have a stable future? 

Will I even have kids to teach? Or a husband to hold? 

Will I be living back home again, or will I have made another place my home?

Will I still be doing this profession I enjoy but is constantly struggling with, or will I have made a name for myself in another industry?

Will I still be close with my family, or is my going away now the start of a distance much harder to cross than a thousand miles of endless ocean?

Will I be able to remember all the journey I would have to make to get to where I will be or will those memories be erased by suppression, repression, or a grave illness? 

Will I still be alive then?

Looking back at all these questions that I would probably have an answer by then, will I be satisfied by the answers, or will I wish I’d never known?

Will I know better, or will I still be fumbling like I am now?

No matter which path I take, the future is set in waves.
What I might be considering a minor mistake now could have a large impact on my future.

Like how I made an impact by insisting I go away.

No one made me to, no one told me so; this move I made all on my own. Because I put such a burden on my shoulders, because I cared too much about things that were considered parental problems, but still all of this I did on my own.

So when I am ready to go home, and yes it is a when because I have accepted by now that I have no other choice but to endure and hope to God that I enjoy this journey, it will also be on my own free will.

I just hope to God it will be on the positive spectrum starting now.

Figuring Out Who I Am

When I was five, I have always known that one day, when I grow up, I’d be someone else; an adult whom I have not the smallest inkling what she would be doing twenty five years in the future but always, always, I imagined that adult to have her whole life figured out. At twenty-one, I am only now realizing that I couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

At one and twenty, I am already a registered Nurse, albeit someone who have just a mere five months of service but I consider it a success nonetheless. I am happy with the state of my life, although a little discontented sometimes, but we can’t all be contented and happy at the same time, right? 

At one and twenty I realized I am actually just flailing my feet underwater, content on waddling on my behind and not daring to look past the dream of flying. After all, flying is just a dream that I could never really achieve. I am happy with the way things are, even as I am aware of how things are going and how much I’m missing out. 

But fuck, who am I kidding? I’m not always happy and neither am I often contented.

I have always dreamt of the strange lands and the stranger people out there, always wishing I could venture out and spread out my wings. Inside, I have always felt like a vicious tide rocking against a cliff. I wanted the whole world for myself and I have not the least bit of knowledge how to conquer it. 

At one and twenty, I figured out I don’t have a single idea how I want my future to fan out. 

I want to be happy, yes.

I want to be content. 

I want to be with my family.

I want to fall in love.

At one and twenty I am finally leaving my home. The first time I wander out alone and I’ll be taking miles away in stride. I guess my parents not wanting me to go out as often as I would have liked or them not allowing me to sleep over with a friend when I was younger were all in moot point, seeing as I’m reclaiming my freedom oceans away from them.

And even in my sentimentality about going away, I recognize the fact that my city can no longer contain me. I have bigger dreams and in order to achieve them, I have to figure out who I am, what do I really want, how do I live with myself and love me for me, before I go on branching out, touching other people’s lives. I have to carve out my own path and not just rely on the road sloppily planted before me by well-meaning parents and other adults who told me to be someone else at such a young age that I don’t even know who I am right now.

In order to achieve my young mind’s dream for myself, I have to lose myself out there and hope fervently to God that I’d find me somewhere. I have to be brave and courageous even when all I’m feeling is cowardly and scared because when the fog of fear and anxiety clears up, I know I took the right way. I have to.

After all, the future is a long time to be spending in regret about paths not taken.