Where am I going?

It’s raining – so what should I do? Option a) Get up while listening to the smooth sound of the raindrops falling against the windowpane; Option b) Get up and be productive; Option c) Hell with that, I’m going back to sleep.

If you said C, welcome aboard – this is not a guide, I would never do that to anyone since I’m a walking mess, so don’t expect any kind of advices or answers to the ultimate questions that keep you awake at night because it’s most likely that I go through the exact same process all the time – this is the place where you’ll find yourself in between the edge of saying “This girl is crazy” and “I know the feeling.”

I was never a fan of rain. I’ve been saying this for a long time, perhaps it’s been too long, but who cares, right? It’s beautiful, I know it is, and it’s also needed, correct again, but the thing is that it gets me into an emotional state of mind that I, my dear fellows, want to run away from as fast as I can, and simply just stay away from the pain and heartache that it causes me.

Why? That’s a nice question that would take me back to those old years where I was a middle school teenager that jumped to the first year of high school already knowing the bloody influence the weather had on her.

A buzz came to my ears just now: did someone say “boys. She is talking about boys”? Well, either you did, or I am going crazy (FYI: I already am). Moving on… that suspicion is correct, or wouldn’t love, or the lack of it, be one of the topics that mostly gain our interest, not only in books but also in movies, making us cry and leading us into a state where we are neither conscious of reality, nor of how silly we may look while we’re daydreaming, instinctively playing with that tissue we used to catch our tears full of misery when the story comes to an end and we’re not ready to face… well, let’s be honest: we’re not ready to face our life as it is.

I’m not going to talk about my misadventures when it comes to love (well…at least not for now), just believe me when I say they are too silly to even be called adventurous or interesting, but I can actually tell you this: no matter what, we always tend to wish that our life could be better than it is and we forget to look around and see that we should be thankful for what we’ve got so far.

I am far from being a good example, and I apologize, but I think there’s a reason why we weren’t born with a map of life, or a GPS or a script, whatever you want to call it, I’m sure you get my point. I’ve had said this before, but since this is probably the first time you read my rants, I’ll have to redo my best jokes in order to catch your attention and hope that you don’t find me extremely weird and actually, maybe, slightly think, from time to time, that I can be a tiny little bit clever. It’s alright, you can only suspect that once throughout the whole time, I’m not picky, as long as you read it all I will be just fine.

So you are free to ask me now where I’m actually planning to go with this and if I’m really expecting that my unorganized thoughts are deep or funny enough to influence your life in some way, or at least only while you’re reading these pages, and the truth is that, as insane as it seems, I am.

“But who are you anyway?” you ask. I’m no one that you’ve ever heard of before, unless we’re friends, and if so, then hello. Right now, in this rainy Sunday morning, I’m basically ranting, writing my thoughts out, and I’m far from expecting to be funny since that’s the last thing that I could possibly be while this laziness fills my body and haunts me with the beautiful idea of sleeping and forget the world for a while. Again.

But instead, I’m here writing. I’ve always relied on this simple act of placing words one after another, while my cat loves to sit beside my computer and watch the blur of letters building sentences and paragraphs about everything and anything at the same time. Well, kind of like this one right here. (Not that my cat understands any of it, I believe she’s just interested in the movement of the lines that follow one after another. Either that, or she was a writer in her past life.)

The truth is that I own a very big list of things that I should or could be doing, dangerously close to become a must as I keep postponing it, with topics such as: clean the kitchen, have a nice breakfast, vacuum the whole house, clean the bathroom, fix the mess inside the wardrobe – basically all of those things that, later you can brag about so you don’t feel like you’ve just wasted another day doing nothing.

But writing is so much funnier and far more interesting. I can do everything and be everyone I want, and no one can tell me otherwise or even point me a finger if I don’t allow them to. This is a free place – free of people, free of judgments, free of failure. It’s simply a way that allows me to be who I am without any negativity coming my way, except for the one that comes from my own brain.

You should know, or better, I should warn you that I am a very negative person and at the same time I’m very optimistic about the future ahead. I said I was a mess, so if you’re surprised with my antagonism… seriously, what else were you expecting?

I am an oiled machine of perceiving random logics. I see the lines that connect people and situations all the time, and I enjoy the wonder of the process, so please do expect lots of theories and random ideas that I’ll come up with in order to explain the reason why things happen the way they do.

I don’t believe in coincidences, maybe because my brain always drives in a fast lane before I can stop it, leading me through a long list of “Infinite Possibilities of Why Did That Happen” where I hopelessly get lost right in the middle of it, every time I found myself there all over again.

“Silly, you should’ve known better” you say. Yes, maybe I should. But I don’t.

My point with all this: well… I don’t know, I suppose that probably there’s not really a point. After all, I can’t tell you what that could be because I don’t know it myself. I don’t know the answer to any question about life since I can honestly tell you that I own the most sarcastic and ironic life I know of. (Note: I’m not a fan of comparisons, so please do know I wasn’t comparing my life with any other life in particular, I was just making a statement that my life is sarcastic and ironic, and please do not compare your life with mine: my solutions and problems are not your solutions nor your problems. I suggest you to keep an open mind throughout all this ranting. It will do you good. Now let’s see what it’ll do to me.)

So let’s get this as straight as possible: I am thinking about writing about life – those typical issues we all have, as for example why do I feel like sleeping the whole day, but find myself wide awake at night, or why there’s never my name in the souvenir shops. Basically, it’s all issues as normal as they can be. Right?

Life is a funny thing. No, really, it is. When you least expect it, something that you never planned in your innumerous made up scenarios, actually happens and leaves you floating in space for a while, without reaction. When it’s a bad thing, you think it’s unfair; when it’s a good thing, you make your happy dance, smiling from ear to ear (c’mon now, don’t try to deny it, I know about the dance).

Forgive this twenty-one years old girl that is too confused and lost in life to actually know where she is heading. I think that for now I really just want to go with the flow, at least for once, and simply forget about following a path that is supposed to lead me to a successful career and a typical stable life on a society that is everything but stable.

I’ve tried that. I took an accountancy course, but I’m rejected from this world due to the lack of experience of my twenties and obviously for the lack of offers in the business, explained by the crisis we are all going through.

I’m not complaining, or maybe I am, but what can I do to prove that I am a fast learner and a good worker if I don’t get a chance to do so?

If you’ve been there, and I know this situation applies to a lot of people, more and more as the days go by, believe me when I tell you I know how it feels – I know how it feels to be rejected without getting to introduce yourself or being given a shot to show they are wrong to assume you’re not good for them.

Time for a confession: I love to write but I already have put this passion of mine aside in order to follow what is considered to be a more safe way to build a career, since arts is seen as a very dangerous tightrope to walk on, always afraid of falling into failure and being jobless for the rest of your life. Why, I ask, art isn’t taken seriously? Why aren’t artists free to follow their passion without being called crazy for not thinking about the consequences of such a reckless life?

I don’t know, but my answer to all of those who think art isn’t a safe business to be in, it’s actually a simple question: which career is safe to achieve nowadays, that actually gives us security and stability for the long run?

Being a writer should be consider as normal as being a lawyer or a doctor. Sure they all have their differences, but the thing is that as long as all the jobs that are connected with art are still consider as unachievable to any normal person who isn’t pretty according to the fashion that is in vogue (aka me), or doesn’t have any previous background of successful achievements (also me), which immediately leads this person to never be able to reach recognition in the business, the way that art is seen as won’t ever change and will always be unfair.

Now I know: I should’ve been born with natural talent and pretty. My mistake, I forgot to add that to the list of things I wanted to be/have in this life. Shame on me!

The thing that really makes me wonder about humanity quite often is when people hold their laugh as much as they can, the effort ending up not being enough because you can still perceive it, while they assure that you can never be such a thing. Hell, why not? Why can’t a person be whatever they dream of, why can’t someone pursue what they love to do?

Flash news, my friends: you can do it.

There’s no safe way to live life. There are no guarantees no matter what path you chose to follow. So please, for your own sake, do the best you can to pursue what you’re truly fond of, to follow what truly makes you happy. Do it for you and forget about everyone that doesn’t support you through your journey. Plenty of people will cross your path – not all of them will stay with you, but I’m sure you’ll find the right ones to stick with.

Your goal doesn’t have to be a career, it can be a hobby or something that you really always wanted to try, like a dance class or actually just get that pair of sneakers you fell in love with after you’ve seen them in your favorite shop. Whatever it is, do your best to find different ways to seek your happiness and I’m sure that far better things will come your way.

I know it won’t always be easy and there’ll be times when you’ll think about giving up, but just keep going, no matter what.

Hang in there, and believe me when I say that, this life takes courage… and lots of chocolate.

Love,

Ana.

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