August 21, 2014

scattered throughout my life (social media mainly, various unkept blogs, old journals) is the statement "this is your life at XXX."  or "you are XXX years old and..."

this is your life at seven.
you are eighteen years old and.

today you are twenty-four and restless.  today you fiddled with your phone and walked your dog and biked to work.  today you wore cowboy boots.

the limbo continues.  (which sounds way more like a party than my actual life.)  at one point you're going to have to be more decisive and choose who you actually are and who you actually are going to be.  in eighth grade, we were told to write down a word - ONE word - to describe ourselves.  how do you do that?  how do you take your entire self and wrap it up into one pathetic little word that doesn't have a chance at encompassing your little finger?  i chose "nice."  heck, i was nice.  maybe that was the most appropriate word to use at that moment in my life.  but not an hour later.  not an hour earlier.  certainly not now. 

when i was a little kid i wanted to be a doctor AND a ballerina AND a farmer AND a writer AND AND AND AND.  i still feel like that.  i don't know how to take my whole life and swirl it down into one little pinpoint and then DO that.  pick a career.  pick a place.  pick a life.  pick a word to describe yourself.

today you are twenty-four and everything is temporary.  today you are twenty-four and you have to start choosing.