I don’t quite know how to start this post. so many different routes to take, but I feel like this (whatever I’m doing) isn’t the right way. I could start by talking about happiness and how we all have our different takes on the enigmatic term… I could talk about how life’s too short to live so mundanely…
But I think I’ll just do that narcissistic thing bloggers do and talk about themselves real quick. You know, be original.
- Was living poor. As I grew, wanted nice things but kept making bad decisions and getting in trouble.
- Wound up in very unhappy situation, and in a very dark place, in this itty bitty, broken down, bug-infested apartment, and was dying to get out.
- Through my own ways, I did. I got the luxurious $1,200 apt., the secure job, granite countertops, and all the materialistic shit I “needed” so badly.
- Several months later, I was back in the same place. Mentally. So, same thing, different place: miserable and looking for something new.
- So I repeated the process, expecting a different outcome–aka insanity. Looking for something to fill the void.
- I was moving often and traveling frequent, and realized I only felt alive when I was on the road or in the air. That’s when I decided I wanted to travel for a substantial amount of time and stay in my car. My trip to Eureka, CA intensified that. I slept in a camper/shed the entire time.
One thing about me: I’m incredibly impulsive.
I turned 24, my relationship with my shitty, sub-psychotic exfinally ended, and I had a day where I sat down and reflected–like a lot of us do. Or, like a lot of us need to do.
For several years now, I’ve been chasing my dream of being a writer, blogger,and being able to live off of my art. It was a GRIND. That 9-5 life has never been for me, and it never will be. Working 10 hours, 6 days a week didn’t leave me much time to make my dreams happen. Though I was living a normal, safe, secure life, I was incredibly miserable.
Time has always been precious to me. I’m constantly acknowledging the fact that one day I’ll be out of it. Every second that passes is one lost, and that truth makes me want to run even harder. So, after reflecting, I realized that if I’m going to make my dreams a reality, then they deserve my all. All the time I have left. No more time can be wasted. And that was a powerful, motivating revelation.
Then, I did what any other hard-headed, delusional, impulsive dreamer would’ve done…
I quit my job, packed a bag, and drove to TN: home. Like I said, I’m impulsive AF.
Since then, I’ve been a full-time dreamer–blogging, vlogging, writing, recording, editing… I’ve gotten a tiny part-time job in the early mornings while I wait for my lease in TX to end (two more dreaded months). Once it does, I suppose I’ll hit the road!
Where will it take me? We’ll see.
Since I’ve started this journey, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. No longer am I tied down and this restricted life. I can finally breathe. Now I can control where each second goes. Now I’m able to give my art my all. Now I’m able to roam. The world is at my feet. When I think of my journey into the unknown, I only feel more alive.
I spent so long looking in the wrong places for so much of my life. I want to say it was wasted time, but I think I needed that to truly find myself and what I want. It took awhile to find this place, but now that I have, I think it’s time to hit that restart button. Not many agree with me, but this is my life and I’ll live it how I want.