I’ll be here by the ocean just waiting for proof that there’s sunsets and silhouette dreams. . .
I lately find myself listening to the music of my teenage days.
So far, it has saved me from the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been through brought by the changing of my Internship duty assignment and the heat and stress that comes with it.
One thing has been running through my mind these past few months, and it’s been bothering me ever since.. Why the heck did I not enroll in Journalism or Literature and pursue my dreams of becoming a writer and a published author?Well I’ve been through this argument with myself before. Battles of the mind as I call it.
In the world we live in today, people are driven not by passion or dreams, but instead are driven by practicality and survival skills. Such was the principles racing through my mind when I chose this medical related course. Of course ever since I was probably in the 2nd grade, I started writing amateur short stories. One story I called “Jack and Petunia” a love story derived from Jack and Rose’s The Titanic.
So what if I used to fantasize of wild entities in our gardens and made myself believe of magic portals beneath our Rose bush.
Where did that imagination go little girl? I ask myself.
It’s been replaced with thoughts of Science: e.g. the muscles, where do they originate and insert? How can one bone deformity or nerve damage affect the whole mechanism of a person’s body?
These critical thinking ways have shadowed my art of transporting myself into a dream fantasy world.
How I miss that little kid who used to play Mermaid with her best friend in a crowded pool, That little girl who’d climb up trees thinking beautiful creatures will be waiting to play with her up there, that girl who climbs on top of the roof to watch the mountains while listening to The Eagles, and how about that kid who imagined the nearby monster alley every time she’d go for a bike ride?
Is this all the fruit of being in a survival mode world? Or is this the proof that a once happy little girl have grown up to face all the hard facts of life.
I will never forget you, little girl.
Here I state a promise of pursuing your dreams, once I am done with mine.