As my birth month approaches, I am forced to think about the answers to the questions people have been hurtling towards me, whether implicitly or not.
How do I want my life to be measured? A couple of months ago, a handful of employees retired from work simultaneously. Prior to their departure, I would often overhear them talking about the number of years they have worked, how much of this time would get translated to their pensions, retirement incentives, and other benefits. And I was brought to thinking, do I wish my life to be summed up with just a single number? I'm pretty sure they have accomplished things, brought up their respective families successfully, etc. It's just that I feel like that 10, 20, 30 years is such a long time to achieve nothing more than just the ability to say "I stayed this long." I wish to be rewarded for my efforts with something beyond a plaque and a check. Which brings me to the next question, the enigma of my age, my people--
What the hell am I going to do with my life? I know that most young adults are as baffled, as confused as I am now. I'm about to be 23, and yet, I haven't formulated any concrete plan yet. I know I have a not-so-bad job right now, something I considered I could do for some years to come. But every now and then, I get a tug at the back of my brain that seems to say, "You're thinking of staying because it's easy, because it's safe." How many instructional-for-the-twenty-somethings articles have I read that said, go find out what you are really passionate about? How many quotes have I read that said choose a life that is as difficult as it is fulfilling?
Speaking of age--Am I not of age to be in a relationship already? Seriously, the number of people who are insisting that I should be in a relationship is proportional to the amount of irritation I feel when they do it. I have come to call this second-hand frustration because I feel that they are frustrated because I just don't give a rat's arse about it. I think not a day will go by without anybody at the office hinting that I should go out and meet people. I just don't think it's suited for me.
Am I secretly lonely? I admit, people in relationships intrigue me. I am curious to know what it's like to be committed and feel so strongly towards another person. But then, I have an amazing family, incredibly crazy but wonderful friends, so no, I really am not lonely at all. In fact, sometimes I wish I can afford to demand solitude more often.
Where's my own brand of metaphor? I am not lonely. However, I'm more curious about the possibility of having somebody as your source of metaphors. As somebody who is always struck by the beauty of word imagery and still can not, for the life of her, make her own, I am forced to deduce that maybe I am missing out on something that will allow me to find these metaphors. Oh cripes. I don't know what I'm saying. (I am inclined to think, moreover, that saying "Be my metaphor please?" is a romantic way to say you like someone. HAHAHA. I'm sorry.)
Why am I not reading enough books lately? I know, I know. My whole lifetime probably won't be enough to read all the books I want (and need) to read. The feeling of intensely wanting to have read this and that book but not wanting to do the actual reading happened to me more often this year than I'd care to admit. Ahhhh.
Same with writing. Sigh.
