Early morning thought
I sometimes wonder at which point I've got to. For guidance I look to those around me. I see those who achieve beyond their wildest dreams. I see bands who at the age of 19 are touring England, from a country that's so vast, most rarely step outside it. I see people my age who already have their hearts' desire in love and life, who are settling down but still wake every morning knowing that the first step outside their bedroom is another step further than they ever thought they could possibly come. I see others who live without financial stability, who still struggle, but who every morning go to their dream job and work content as many days as God can send, not secure in the knowledge of the comfort of the future, but in the comfort of the happiness of now. I see others who work a job that's less than what they hoped for, but every night they shed their daytime skin, bury themselves in secret lives, holidays; who save themselves for the times when they can truly live. I see those who have drowned themselves in those same jobs, and their weekends hold no hope.
I look at these people and wonder which I want to be.
I look at these people and wonder which I will become.
I will admit these last few months the fear of death, as opposed to the fear of dying, has appeared in my mind. But the one that keeps me awake at night, the demon that most holds me up in the dead of night, scared to put my head on the pillow, is the fear of the future. Not the future in general, but The Future. The one I will regret. It has a second name - that of wasted opportunity. And every extra moment spent in its company is a moment that feeds it. What could I be doing with this time? Dave Grohl says he can only sleep a few hours a night through fear of all the things he could be doing with his time.
I tick off the long list of things I wanted to do when I was a child, mentally making big red pen marks on the page like I'm gouging flesh. Which ones are left? Which are gone forever? Which ones are suffocating beneath layers of red biro and forehead lines as I think? It's almost funny, the paralysis that comes with such thoughts when you'd think they would galvanise you into action. Is there a middle way? Do I want it even if I could find it?
I look outside and long for a day of snow or a day of Summer sunshine; a day of bright light I can gaze at through my window and smile as I sit in my room and type. Crisp cold and cool water. I dream of the Special Days of my childhood. I live for whistful smiles. And whether there's more than that for me, I don't know.
I look at these people and wonder which I want to be.
I look at these people and wonder which I will become.
I will admit these last few months the fear of death, as opposed to the fear of dying, has appeared in my mind. But the one that keeps me awake at night, the demon that most holds me up in the dead of night, scared to put my head on the pillow, is the fear of the future. Not the future in general, but The Future. The one I will regret. It has a second name - that of wasted opportunity. And every extra moment spent in its company is a moment that feeds it. What could I be doing with this time? Dave Grohl says he can only sleep a few hours a night through fear of all the things he could be doing with his time.
I tick off the long list of things I wanted to do when I was a child, mentally making big red pen marks on the page like I'm gouging flesh. Which ones are left? Which are gone forever? Which ones are suffocating beneath layers of red biro and forehead lines as I think? It's almost funny, the paralysis that comes with such thoughts when you'd think they would galvanise you into action. Is there a middle way? Do I want it even if I could find it?
I look outside and long for a day of snow or a day of Summer sunshine; a day of bright light I can gaze at through my window and smile as I sit in my room and type. Crisp cold and cool water. I dream of the Special Days of my childhood. I live for whistful smiles. And whether there's more than that for me, I don't know.