An undetermined journeyFebruary 18th, 2007


In my not so long life I have met a lot of people, people like me, who told me about what they were doing. A dozen of them was certain to be happy with their life. A few, two or three, were still on their way to what they call their dream. When I meet people who follow their dream so determinedly and with all their power, it makes me realize what it is all worth for fighting, struggling, falling and getting back on my feet again.

But then, like I’ve noticed before, reality gets inbetween. You can tell yourself a lot of things, like you’re wise, and intelligent, and ready for all what comes up on your journey. You can make yourself believe in it. But not for long. It’s in the humans’ mind to have doubts. At some point in your life, you start questioning all you’ve done the last years, days and hours. You begin to weigh out the successes to the failures. A phrase says, stones lying in your way are there to be carried aside. But what, if you’ve put all your powers together, have done all this effort, and the stone is not even moving a little? What, if all you can give is still not enough to make this path walkable?

The secret of success is in the little things. It’s in fact in the little achievements that happen day by day, like a finished repairing of which you thought you couldn’t do on your own. Or a long awaited test you somehow passed. The last piece of chocolate cake you got in the Coffee bar. Without those little successes, life would be very hard. The weight of the bad, unpleasant things would be so heavy and step by step, it would crush you.

People who hear your journey is burdening you more and more use to say things like “That’s life”, or “I know you can do it. Keep on fighting.”. But what if I forgot that I can? What if I am not able to cope with this life? What, if I see my powers slide?

I’ve never been an easy type. I can be so awkward sometimes and scare people with my behaviour. Afterwards I’m sorry. But I can’t say it. I’ve always had this boastful, naive thought that I am different to all of them. That I will not stay at home for all my life, not be with the same people, not stay inside these homemade walls and frames. And I kept believing. Being awkward is my way of saying goodbye, it’s a process of parting that started long ago when I decided to be different and go my ways. I don’t need someone standing in my way. The only thing that has ever given me true acceptance and understanding was the sea. That’s why I’m home at the ocean, on it, inside of it, drowning in it, dwelling on it, even dreaming of it. But the ocean is only a fantasy of what I thought I could be. The ocean is never resentful or dismissive. Reality is. Reality is harsh and throws you back to the ground when you were sure you’ve made it half the top. Reality let’s you climb these rungs a million times and you still won’t reach the top. Reality makes you see that all you can do is standing there, watching the waves roll across the fine grained sand. And that is it. The rest takes place in another place of world, where the ocean is far and earning money is the important thing.

I don’t believe in destiny. I believe in people’s work. But it’s true, destiny has brought me so far, and this is true, because I am closer to my dream than I ever was. I kept believing that these signs must mean anything. Was I wrong?

Everytime I see a picture of the ocean, the strenght rises inside of me to stand it all whatever there may come. Everytime I fail again, the questioning begins. I believe my future to be at the sea, but possibly not this way. Maybe this exact, predetermined-seeming way is not mine. But where are the borders, where is the right point to say “no” and quit, where the point to realize it’s worth carrying on, where the sign that tells me I won’t lose everything when I carry on? I’m lacking signs, answers and little successes. And most of all I’m lacking time. I’m afraid of it. Still I’m young, but where will I end up? What, if there is nothing else in the whole world that pushes me as much as the sea? I conclude it would mean that this would be the end, or that I would live on regretting a life I never lived.

I can already hear people saying their sentences. “Keep on working.” But those don’t write my tests, listen to the lectures, struggle with my body and soul. Those very people are the ones who tell you to move forward when you’ve failed on your dream. But those are not the ones who feel the destructive pain. I am feeling it. I don’t think I would be able to be happy again if I’m losing my dream.

I’m lacking power. I need it so much. And a sign. A small sign telling me it’s all worth it. A small sign making me hope for a better, a different life from the one that I am living right now. One, where reality has a happy ending.

imagepostFebruary 18th, 2007 imagetime20:55

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