Restless Realization

I love to write. No, really i do.

Writing helps me control... everything. It's how I cope with stress and disperse my frustration and anger. I was told recently, in good humor, that I wont accomplish my dream of becoming an author because I do not write enough.


It shouldn't matter to me what other people think, on most levels it doesn't. Yet I find more and more that my lack of drive, or maybe determination is a better word, presses me to the point of retreat. When I sit and think about myself I can see my lack as a hindrance and it's something I want and need to change. However, when I think about my parents and how much they sacrifice so that I can live up to my potential, I grow still. Something in side of me becomes conscious of its cushioned cage. I, or at least some part of me, rage at the idea of contented mediocrity. Not to say I am incontinent with my current life but someday I have to be more than I am. For my parents. For a part of my soul that yearns for recognition as something other than an extra sitting at a table in a coffee shop while history is been written across the street.


I want to be remembered. Two hundred years from now I want to be able to contribute to someones life. It doesn't have to be a major contribution. Maybe someone will have a hard day and need to escape reality in to something more 'fantastic' than the everyday drudgery of life.


I want to be an author. I want to give others an option for escape. I don't need my name remember in history. I don't want glory. I want my ideas, a part of my mind to have immortality. I want my parents to be proud of me, I want to be proud of me.


If in this confusing ramble I have correctly analyzed my emotions (as to which I am uncertain) then I or rather my emotions are in contradiction and I must come to a conclusion. If I am to become something in the future I must act now. I can no longer be content with my current state in life. I must work toward my goal of becoming an author now in order to succeed in the future.

A simple fact, yet a truth. I can not depend on others to schedule my time and prompt me to work. I have to be responsible for my future.