In about 30 days, I will be 23.
Honestly, the figure scares me. 23, to me, is an age which belongs to the older, wiser, and worldly group. But I am none of that bar the older part. I have not written enough, worked enough, played enough, travelled enough, loved enough or lived enough. The enoughs in my list would scare you; I live timorously – try to grab life, clutch it, fail most of the time.
Some friends of mine would gape at me.
I have not lived? What an offensive thought. Have I not lived enough? Perhaps I am overtly ambitious. I think a lot – friends accuse me of overthinking all the time. Some say I have ADD/ADHD – never able to focus entirely on one subject matter even during – well, suffice to say, I do think about multiple things at a time. January marks my third month in a creative agency. There are days where I struggle, others I am filled with epiphanies and ideas that beckons with a snap of my fingers. Yet.
My achievements of yesterday, and of today, feel fleeting. I need to do more. Be more. Live more.
One of my longest friends renewed a pact with me recently. Again, we shall attempt to achieve 10 (crazy) things in the year 2014. We did it two years ago. That year was the year I picked up courage to pierce my tongue, single-handedly drank half a bottle of whisky (we had no idea how we got back to our uni dorms that night), partied 4 nights in a week/drank and got drunk 6 nights in a row, etc.
Yea. That list was pretty debauchery. I am no longer that girl today.
This year’s list would be different. The usual (short) list will retain.
- Read 54 books
- Visit 4 places (it used to be 2)
- Appreciate my family more
- Love, learn and repeat
In addition to these four classics of mine, I do wonder about what I want to get out of 2014. I am taking my time to think about them. After all, whimsical thoughts produce resolutions but I am trying to achieve something more.
What’s certain is that, come February, my bestie and I would be embarking on a journey which would hopefully result in something great. Also, this year, I get to celebrate my birthday with the family and I can’t wait to thank my folks for bringing me up and giving me the opportunities to experience different cultures, allowing me to solo travel alone while they live nervously during the entire period. Their selflessness will always, always be a drive for my pursuit of greater things. I am not doing much solo travelling this year – my mum decided to tag along, so we will be heading to two destinations in April and May.
It has been 6 months since my Europe trip ended. They seem surreal at times – I wondered how did i manage to do it all, traverse 7 countries with minimal human contact and entirely dependent on the goodwill of strangers when I get lost. Needless to say, the entire experience changed me and I miss the strangeness of it; I foresee myself taking more trips to Europe because of its exoticness (yes indeed, I do find them exotic – pardon the crudeness of the word) but I will have to save up some moolah this time. It’s Friday night and I am content rambling on about nothing – clearly the heyday of my wild nights are long gone, this time round, I seek something quieter, more poignant and in some sense, fortuitous.