Thursday, 7 February 2013


Well hello blogosphere. Hello world where I flirt commitment to and my promises are mere trickery. SORRY but I am really not very good at this game.

But despite it all I'm here on a Thursday and I'm sporting a thought. It isn't revolutionary and it sure isn't unconventional. Maybe it's the early morning air or the divine smell of coffee. Whatever the cause I seem to be thinking a little too hard...

22 and not much to show for all those years or living. 22 and wondering still why, wondering where, when and how. 22 and realising I have to face fears. Realising I have to become something. 22 and not at all ready for the real world.

You see a while ago I thought I was ready. Ready to be a respectable adult, ready to say "hello world come and get me." Now I'm not sure, now I'm completely lost in everything. My mind is a jungle of ideas, a maze of endless thoughts and contrasting notions. I want the glory sometimes but I'm too weak to tackle it. I want to be that free sprit, yet I'm much too afraid of being unable to support myself. I want convention (yes, sometimes I admit I think of taking that path) and yet I cower at the prospect. I'm walking through life blind.

What is it that will make me stand up? What will make me finally discover my calling. Do we even have callings?

I can't even box myself. Sometimes realist other times endless dreamer. Too often sceptic and occasional romantic (yes it's true). Too much of a girl and yet too little of a girl. Too loud, too shy, too much of a child. Too much pretend and idleness. A girl like any other.

Things in life change and sometimes I wish they never did. But very often I sit waiting for something better than the rest. I walk wondering when will it all begin. Because I do believe despite my 22 years of living on this planet of questions, I know but one answer - my life hasn't really truly begun. If I were to write a biography as we speak it would be filled with events of mere mediocre proportions. I won't lie to you or myself. I've been blessed with adventure, of new discovery. I've been tainted with loss and sadness.

But it isn't worth a read. It's my life and if I'm truly honest I've loved it. But it's there in draft form. It's good but it's no Shakespeare. I don't have enough paint on my canvas. Few extraordinary moments and not enough life lessons.

So here's to the beginning. I'm wonderfully lost and I'm scared. But I don't believe I'm alone and I can only hope things can only go up from here.

Ciao for now and may you live the next 24 hours just as I would. With lively questions and blind follies. With just trying to be happy at watching your life unfold. I'm telling myself slow it down; it should all work out in the end.


1 comment:

  1. It took me well over forty years to figure out the true secret of life: Learn to let go.

    Hope you're well, merciless winter in NYC.