Seven

Where do I go from here?

Seven months.

A lot has changed since I wrote my first entry. It surprises me how much can change in so little time. 
When you are a kid, time seems to take an eternity to move, and when I think back on my childhood, it seems everything was stretched out and I was just waiting impatiently to grow up. 
Now I am an adult and it feels like the world is spinning mad fast.  Seven months and I don't see the same person in the mirror anymore, I don't have the same interests, the same desires, the same dreams and passions.

Lately, my blog entries have dwindled.  I told myself when I created this blog seven months ago that I would:

1. update it regularly.  Like a public journal that I could come back to years later and see what kind of person I was when I wrote it.  When you write down the things you do, you have to think about them first, and when you do that, you can understand what they mean, you can appreciate them.  I guess life can pass you by if you don't stop and take notes.

2. write about "something."  I didnt want to update this blog with just crap, write for the sake of writing.  Each blog needed to have an idea behind it, a story to tell, a "so what" aspect.

3. take my camera with me everywhere. Include pictures with every entry.

So, although its probably my parents back in Canada that result in the hit meter jumping up weekly, I thought I'd tell any others who come visit me here, that the "So what" aspect in my life is missing.  I do not feel inspired to think of ideas, to take pictures, to disect events and see if there is a story to tell.

When I got here, the majority of people I met were ready to pack and go home.  They didn't like their school, job, country, food, situation, etc.  I told myself that I would not be like them.  I would not waste such a great opportunity to see new things, do new things, and meet new types of people.  I would not complain.

But here it is folks: I am complaining. 

I feel bored. Real bored. Real uninspired. I do not want to stay in this place anymore.

Dont get it wrong though, I'm not bored because I didn't try.  I experienced as  many new things as I could. I put myself out there, but it just feels like I took as much as I could out of this experience and I'm ready to get the hell outta here!  My thoughts (or dreams) are beginning to loose their focus. Maybe I just need a reckless vacation, a sudden jolt of inspiration.

***

At 23, Che Guevera took a year out of medical school to travel through Latin America on a motorcycle.

Christopher McCandless was around 22 when he said "fuck off" to society and tried to chase his great Alaskan adventure.

In under a month, Ill be 23. What have I done?

I get sentimental and introspective every year around my birthday.  For some reason, I can't shake this fear of losing something sacred when each year passes.  It shakes me up. Giving up the age of 21 meant saying goodbye to the "last milestone."

Now, facing the lost of 22, it feels like I'm giving up this idea of endless youth.

I just feel like I will never be in a position like this again. 

I will never be 22 again. So I will never be this young again. I will never be this unattached to anything: I dont have a career, I dont have a family, no boyfriend, and no kids (although my animal brood could easily quadruple before my 30s). 

I might never be this passionate about travel, I might never be this careless to just pick up and jump borders, I may never be this addicted to Facebook, I may never be this dedicated to writing,  and I might never be this selfish to think solely about myself.

I wonder who I'll be in five years?
Hell, I wonder who I'll be next year.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsZJMjgI6dw

Quote of the Day:
"The idleness and non-effect of my job here hurts my soul sometimes Na. (But God forbid no more talking about me.) We're talented people Na. We're special.


And no, we should not be here letting our lives pass us by.


We should be doing something, igniting a fire, cleaning up the gulf of Mexcio, destryoing the slow tired bueraracy, writing a novel, but maybe we're doing enough.


Maybe we're ok."