Lately, I’ve been worrying a lot about my future. I’ve also been worrying a lot about the facts of my present. I’m in doubt. Are all these present-day efforts and experiences enough for me to make it through the future I want to become?
I have faith in God but, obnoxiously speaking, I call for strength in order for me to have faith in myself. I just need a pocket-sized conviction; a voluminous assurance that I can do it.
How do you see me? Yes, you.
Do you see me as a woman of passion or a sappy girl with this lame blogger account?
My every word and my every action are the transparent reasons I could supply to people for them to calculate and compute me.
But knowing the answer is just my option. What really matters to me now is the criteria I want for myself. Am I almost there? Am I at the base of the pyramid? If yes, am I looking towards the apex of everything I wanted or just staring straight on this granular material everyone is stepping to? If no, where must I be?
And so I need my option.
I want to be a pre-school teacher or a college professor. I want to be an author, a writer, or a critique. I want to spend my time working for me to be able to provide my mom and my younger sister’s future with a two-bedroom condominium, a car and enough money to spend for what we really need.
But right now, I’m just an average 3rd year Psychology-major student-athlete amateurishly blogging, working hard, hoping and dreaming that one day, all these self-pity prisoned in a place called myself will zoom away.
What if.
But.
Fear.
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