Midnight musings.

I have no idea where to start.

I havent been writing for quite awhile now, and I’m starting to find it foreign to translate my thoughts into words.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve been reading Murakami for the past few days. His way of writing, his stories, are kinda vague, and you’d have to interpret them by yourself. In Sputnik Sweetheart, he talked about loneliness and that kinda struck a chord within me. I find this book much more relatable than Kafka on the Shore.

Or maybe it’s because I have so much time in my hands right now, that i’m contemplating about what I’ve achieved as a person in my 23 years of living, and what I want to achieve in the next 5, 10, 20 years.

I’ve always been a mediocre person, with strong views sometimes about my own course of living, but generally I’d say I’m not very ambitious. I just want to lead a comfortable life, with a family of my own and good income. Compared to some people, I’d just say I have very mediocre plans. I don’t dream big, not anymore. At least not like how I used to be, because I’ve never worked hard at things I felt passionate about, like dancing and performing, photography, writing.

I’m not so sure about myself anymore. I’m turning 23 this Sunday, which means I have only 7 years left to fully lay the foundation for the rest of my life. Thinking about this makes me so nervous sometimes, and yes there are times when I’d think ‘geez this is so tough I just want someone to take care of me’.

But no. I know fully well how much I’d detest myself if I didn’t build my own future, I know I’ll definitely look down on myself if I just depended on someone else for the rest of my life.

See, that’s the problem. I know very well what I don’t want, but I’m not so sure on what I want for the future.


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