At a loss for words

I need to speak for myself right now, I need to think. And yet, when I open my mouth to speak, or try to get my mind to think, there's simply a void. no words, no rational thoughts. I am still a child and life tells me this over and over again. So I shall write, like always, so i can at least pretend to be an adult through these silent words. words that are drowned even by the clickety clack of my keyboard. words that you, reader, may find the meaningless uttering of a child.

 

The parents are adamant about sending me to a good professional college. and so am I, the only difference is that I don't want to do a professional course. I fear for myself and I wonder if this desire I have to do something new and different is only the echo of my foolishness. What I want to do is journalism and mass communication. it entails the study of subjects I have never studied. I do not know if I will enjoy it. but my heart yearns for it so. I can just see myself sitting in those classes learning new things, gaining in confidence, becoming a good speaker, writing to my hearts content about everything under the sun. I want to cut and chip away at the rock that I am and make myself a gem. my fear is that all these thoughts are simply fantasy. what if my mind is just playing tricks on me? what if I am only amber at the core and not a diamond?

must I do the safe thing and do my professional degree? should I make a safety net for myself before I plunge into the unknown? again, I fear that weaving the safety net would take up too much of time and I will deviate from this dream to an extent that I cannot go back to being a journalist. I wonder if that is my fate. to be a computer science engineer with an unfulfilled pining to be a writer. yes, I can see myself clearly in that state. it is a much clearer vision than being a successful writer and a much clearer one than being a satisfied computer scientist. 

 

I wonder if my inability to choose will be my greatest weakness, and eventually my downfall.

Undterminable

each one of us has some urge within us to be different. we have a wanting to do something special with our lives that no one else can do. and we admire the people who have acheived this. we look up to them and give them laurels. they become our heros, our role models.
i find everyone around me with these very real hopes of doing something different in life, and i find myself wishing the same.
young as i am, i have always wanted to be different, unique in every possible way, and yet, i could share a common thread with any random person. i have my own dreams, my own ideas, my own imagination and it is very different from other people. at the same time, i can find something similar with any person and begin a conversation with them. i am a chameleon in that sense. i can change according to the people around me and i am comfortable in most environments. but somewhere in me, as i have grown older, i have found myself a misfit. in my attempts to blend in, i had forgotten to discover my desire to be unique. but now, those desires come pouring out and i find myself reacting to situations, wanting things, that are different, out of the box.

my life is paved in front of me like an ominious highway. school, college, job, marriage, kids, retirement, death. sure, i'm going enjoy some beautiful times. but there is no excitement in a life so perdictable. and i could, if i wanted to let it happen this way. i could choose this well driven, safe highway, with all the right stop signs and green signals. or i could walk through the woods barefoot. my spirit would rush to the woods without a second thought. my mind would submissively drive along the safe highway and my heart, of course, my heart would be in the woods too. aching to experience the uncertainty of it all, but too scared to really go out and do it.
someday, this little girl, that i still am, will grow up. maybe then, i will have the courage to walk into those dark woods and the intelligence to steer my way out without too many bruises.

i remember Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.