I’m one month away from turning 30, and I have mixed feelings about it all.
To be honest, I’ve always considered myself to a little weak so I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long. But it looks like it’s happening and I’ll soon begin to be a proper adult on my 30s! Really? Not really!
The thing is, I haven’t done most of the things I wanted to do, but I’ve done some. Most importantly, I’m not where I thought I would be by now, but at least I’m somewhere. And as I write I think; and as I think my mind reaffirms: Time is an illusion, just like space; so intangible and alluring but mostly misleading.
Once again the clock is ticking; and I again can’t find the god of dreams. He is nowhere to be found.
Maybe he gave up and abandoned me; maybe he left me for better people with better dreams. The clock is ticking, I can hear it now. And I’m now staring at the limited horizon of my bedroom wall, imagining what lies beyond, imagining what lies beyond me and my fears. Only greatness, I suppose.
I’m almost 30, and I’m dizzy just thinking about it.
All this time, procrastination has become by best friend. A friend I never welcomed but somehow have managed to stick around.
Thank you- procrastination, for all the lovely moments of doing nothing; For allowing me to dream but not act. But as I approach my third decade of life, I give you one month’s notice to vanish. There’s no need to leave any of your belongings. There’s no need to keep in touch either; I’m heading towards a new start.
Happiness, fulfilment and my inner calling are waiting. I’m digging through this lonely path of inner redemption.
I think I need more time.