Today is my year two mark on not having plans and not wanting anything from life.
I'm 27 years old. Everything I wished for and or planned to have and be by the age 40 I managed to conquer, against all odds, by 25.
I know this sounds pretentious but I promise you it isn't. Me and my family we starved, ran away from violence, I had to jump over dead bodies in the street to go to school — life wasn't at all easy but I managed and nowadays the biggest worry in my head is wether I used the em dash correctly.
I remember when I had plans, it feels really good to wake up every morning knowing that doesn't matter what life throws your way you'll be able to dodge because you're in a quest, a mission. I remember when I was offered a job abroad just because I knew a thing of two about design and development, I remember they telling me that I was the youngest IC hire in the company and it was great that I was curious and learned how to do this things. Little do they know that the only reason I had years of experience at the age of 20 is because since 14 I had to put food on the table.
Why am I talking about all of this? It is definitely not for you to feel sorry for me, don't. Things happen that's just how life goes but nowadays I lack one thing, one very important thing: Goals.
I miss having a reason to do what I do, I miss the feeling of accomplishment you know, that spark in your stomach that makes you want to pop a smile any time anywhere.
I'll be looking for help soon but meanwhile I can't help but keep going, aimlessly but going.