my 20s aren't so hot
i'm afraid i will feel like 23 forever. i am 24 now, turning 25, yet i am in the same state of confusion, of limbo. is this what purgatory feels like? is this why ghosts roam around possessing living people's bodies, desperate to escape perpetual oblivion?
i think about all of the times i tell people what i do for a living, after telling them i was in creative writing, a playwright. i see light leave their eyes, and i have to say, no, wait, let me explain myself. let me make myself interesting again, i think. and i convince them why i do a boring job completely unrelated to my process of making. i tell them i love advocacy work, i tell them i love the work set-up, i tell them i'm earning okay, i tell them it's interesting. in telling them, i know i am trying to convince myself too.
i always do for a little bit, until i have to go home. actually face the work i've been bragging about. i then ask myself again what i am doing with my life.
do i actually have a plan? can i still make things the way i used to before? or are those skills from college only memories i grasp onto now hoping i can still call to them?
i'm turning 25 and i am nowhere near what i dreamed of when i was 15. i am not a filmmaker, or a new york times bestselling author, or a rich youtuber, or living on my own. i can barely even call myself a writer anymore.
i know i don't have to chase things, that i have time, yet it doesn't feel that way. i wonder if i want to prove myself to younger me, or i just know i deserve so much more?
i'm turning 25 in a month, when will things let up? last year was the first time it didn't rain on my birthday? will it not bless me this year again? i hope it does. i need something. i need to destroy things and remake them. i need something else. i need more than this.