I am, at the moment, attempting to edit a story of mine. It feels more like bleeding, though. Bleeding out of every pore of my body; every attempt at thinking of what to cut and what to replace feels like a slice across my skin.
Who knew editing could be this gory?
But in the process of this editing of my story, I realized that I should start editing my life, too. Bit dramatic, maybe, but it did happen, that realization.
I should start doing things, and continue to do things. I know what I want to be doing for the rest of my life, but I am never sure how to begin doing them. But I realize now that it's okay not to be sure, that the only way to be sure is to do things. To try things out and maybe, just maybe, along the way, I'd find the right road.
I'm young. I can afford to try things out, to walk down different roads and find which ones I'd like to continue on. And that is what I am going to try to do. I'll try as many things as I could in the hopes that one of them would stick.
Who knew editing could bring on such epiphanies?
Who knew editing could be this gory?
But in the process of this editing of my story, I realized that I should start editing my life, too. Bit dramatic, maybe, but it did happen, that realization.
I should start doing things, and continue to do things. I know what I want to be doing for the rest of my life, but I am never sure how to begin doing them. But I realize now that it's okay not to be sure, that the only way to be sure is to do things. To try things out and maybe, just maybe, along the way, I'd find the right road.
I'm young. I can afford to try things out, to walk down different roads and find which ones I'd like to continue on. And that is what I am going to try to do. I'll try as many things as I could in the hopes that one of them would stick.
Who knew editing could bring on such epiphanies?
Comments
Post a Comment