You Only Live Once

Wow, I haven't been here since 2012 I believe.

I'm into writing on diaries now, as it is more private. But sometimes nothing can beat the sound of the keyboard being typed on.

Forgive this long essay, writing comforts me. You'll see why in a moment.

I've failed myself. My last few posts back in 2012 were about how I wanted to be someone; how I wanted my twenties to be spent like girls in their twenties would in the movies I've watched and the stories I've read. I wanted it to be of worth and value, something memorable and fun. Not just something I have to live in. Well that dream isn't launched yet, nor is it launching anytime soon.

The rocket ship flew, but when it hit the stratosphere, it fell back down and crashed. It's broken now. And I have no way of getting back up until I fix it. And revise it.

So far my test runs haven't been doing so well. I feel like a Mentose candy being thrown into a bottle of Coke.

I apologies for the bluntness. I can't say these past few months have been anything but awful for me. My plans are constantly in need of... revision. My skin, hair, smile, even my aura has changed due to the circumstances befalling me, which affected (affects) my current "pattern" of living.

They say I am a strong woman, but sometimes the strong exterior is just a shield protecting the fearful warrior behind it. And needless to say, I am that fearful warrior. I am very afraid.

I have constantly dealt with change my whole life. I learned the hard way that one's plans cannot always push through as expected. And when they do fail, it is nothing short of disappointing. Crushing. And sometimes heartbreaking. Especially when these plans deal with your life. Your future. Your dreams.

I know I am not the only one. But it doesn't change the fact that it hurts.

In the movies and stories, girls my age go to the beach and enjoy the waves. They go shopping, stalk boys, have Spring Break, even go camping. I want to learn how to surf, to go jet skiing, wall climbing, archery... I want to be able to roast marshmallows by the fire with my besties. I want to be able to drive and go on roadtrips. I don't want to be so afraid of airplane rides, or swimming in lakes. But somehow the way I have lived my life has planted in me that seed of worry.

And it's growing.

The longer I live, the more I worry, most especially because none of the plans I have had in mind are working out at all.

I know that isn't necessarily a bad thing. But I am tired. And I just need to rest a while, you know? Get away from it all.

Back in college, the motto was "Study hard, party harder.". And before I never truly understood the need to do so.  But now, I see the importance of alcohol. I see the need for letting lose and just having fun; it's called survival. Now some people don't practice those methods, but to each his own, right?

I wanna go to the beach and sunbathe and not worry about getting a tan just because my friends consider it "beautiful" to be fair-skinned. I want to go roller skating in a bikini with the rest of the girls in California or Australia and not be conscious. I want to go sky diving in Rio, visit the Louvre in France, ride a Vespa in Roam, watch a fashion show in Milan, I want to do so many things and knowing that I only have one life to live worries me...

You only live once. And right now, I'm living to survive. To secure a place for my future. Yet doing so has trapped me in fear.

A preacher once said that we must give to Him our need to understand His plan.

It's not very easy, especially when you overanalize like I do. But I try. And honestly, not having everything figured out usually brings me to a happier place.

Another preacher once said that when your life starts falling apart, it might just start falling into place.

And I wish that very much.

You fail, you try again. You fail once more, you try once more. The only time you truly fail is if you allow yourself to give in to the notion that nothing can be done to improve you life. And I won't let that happen.

I'm stuck, but sometimes being stuck allows you time to rest awhile.

God knows I need that time.

You see, writing comforts me this way; allowing me to change perspectives by channeling my emotions into... ideas.

I am not cured of the inflictions caused by my own doing, but at least I have some way of belting it out piece by piece.

Who knows, later on today, tomorrow, or next year, I might finally learn how to shoot an arrow. And I might actually be good at it.