So, here I am, sitting in my chair, attempting to post a blog. Why? No clue, but it feels right. What is this blog about, you ask? I'm sure you're asking this because you're curious about the title, why it's so weird, and as to why you are reading it. It appeals to you? Who knows, but for the sake of my own verbosity, I suppose this blog is about my future, my goals, and how this could possibly relate to you.
So, shall I get started?
When I was younger, I dreamed about becoming an astronaut. I was highly interested in planets, stars, the vastness of space, and the entire universe and its precious contents. Years later, I came to the conclusion that I had a hatred for heights. It's not that I am afraid, but it's because it makes me feel things I don't like feeling. Helplessness, to sum it all up. I hate that feeling. So, I dropped the idea. Several years later, I found out I loved drawing. Who doesn't? Drawing is fun, even if it's a terrible picture. I wanted to draw comics and cartoons, but, like my astronaut dream, it met a terrible fate called "limitations." Regardless of how fun it was to draw, I gave up on the dream because of my own criticisms. It wasn't good enough. Not to me anyway. Plus, I couldn't, and still cannot, do actions other than portraits. And those portraits are boring... even if they have a cool design. I can't draw women and I can't draw objects. But this can be remedied.
Beyond this, however, I developed a new dream a couple years later. This dream was, and still is, to write. I love writing. It's as fun writing as it is reading. A few years of this and I found out that I have a love for creation. I love to create things, there's so much power to it. As human-beings, power is a drug, like cocaine. It can get addicting and it is. But this is a lecture for another time. Or whenever I feel like ranting about the flaws of mankind. The power to create is a wonderful stimulant for the mind, because it also helps you develop a sense of empathy. Compassion, however, can be clouded by one's own selfishness. I guarantee you there are a few authors out there who, rather than use their developed sense of compassion, simply act like haughty kings, acting snobbish over their lessers.
This, too, is what we're going to save for another day... it may be part of the same lecture, but whatever.
So, I developed a new dream to write. This then mingled with my talent to draw (and mind you, I use the term "talent" loosely). It took several months to click, but eventually, a new window of opportunity opened. I was reading webcomics when this happened, so you should understand that this was, perhaps, no coincidence. So, given the opportunity to exercise my love, my wonderful hobbies, I took the chance and leaped through the window. Sadly, I should have just took my time. I see how much work there is into making a webcomic, though this does not deter my desires, and now I'm taking it slow and touring around this new world. Mind you, this still a part of my dream to be a writer. I shall be a writer.
Now, however, I am about to finish High School and in the end I'll soon be a Freshman in College (or perhaps a University). My future career... my oh my is this such a hard decision. I have a lot of fancies, ranging from English to Psychology. Chemistry to Physics to Astrology. Computer Networking to Graphic Design. I have a lot of fancies indeed. Though I want to be a writer, I need a career that'll help pay the bills. So, as of currently, I am thinking over my options. Teaching (High School English, hopefully), Psychiatry, Journalism, Graphic Designer, or perhaps even an IT guy. Who knows, I have a few years to think of it, but it's all so confusing.
Though, on a positive note, my muse has woke up, like it does every so often, and began to sing its song. So, now, I have an idea for a story, and so I am writing. But will this be THE story that's finished and published and making me tons of money, along with a strong sense of self-satisfaction? Or is it yet another story that is to be thrown into the dark, only to turn to dust and be forgotten? I pray it's the first one, and I hope my new outlook, to just have fun with it and give into the urges, will assist in making this THE story.
If so, this story may make all of my favorite authors toss and turn with laughter in their graves for the super-mesh of genres :P
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