Dreams, I'm in constant awe of them. I have these dreams. Three of them to be precise. They slowly developed over time for me. I didn't have these aspirations right of the bat at all but as I adventured more out into the world, they started to mold into dreams.
I want to be a Music Supervisor. What is that? Well, after I researched choosing music for films and tv shows I stumbled upon this title. It was quite lovely and terrifying at the same time of what I found. If wanting this job you really do not need a ton of education or any at all. It is more about who you are and who you know. The pay can be from 30,000 to 250,000 depending on if you are freelance or working for a company. I enjoy music. I enjoy finding it and imaging what situations or moods go with it. It is like finding the pieces to a puzzle and then putting it all together. When I watch a Tv show I am almost always listening to the music of it.
I want to be an expert in making wooden furniture. I want to develop that skill as much as possible. I want to sell it. My dream is to make a dinning room table that a family will buy and use over and over again then pass it down through out the family. I want my hands to ache from building furniture.
I want to help children and adolescents. I want my masters in Marriage and Family counseling.
You see the thing is I don't know what I will do with my masters. That is the complication. My heart and passion is double dipping. Is this allowed? I'm I allowed to be a professional and then pursue music and art?
Dreams...how do we make these realities? Are these even realities?
I want to dream as much as I can. I want these dreams to become as impactful on my life as possible. I do not want them to separate from reality but conjoin into reality. How does one make these happen? Where do I start? All I know what to do is research and talk about it. Find those connections. Talk to people who have no connection whatsoever to my aspirations and talk to people that feel the same.
I want to make difference in my life to the point where it punctures my lungs. It stops my breathing for a moment and I begin again. Journey...I want to. Make my heart known I suppose. I am not wanting to be hidden in the dark. Expose me world. I always ask to be challenged and life surely makes a big effort in doing that to me. I took a risk and moved to Michigan to be educated by Calvin. I took a risk and applied to the studying abroad program for Spain. I like risks and I want to take more. I want to so many things I hope I can attain my dreams. That for me is one of the most important things in my life. One of my priorities. For my dreams to be dashed or crashed into a million pieces would ruin me. Although, to not act on them is the same.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Thursday, January 9, 2014
I Fail to Describe How Beautiful They Are
...I flipped through the pages of a book that I would never of rented. A book about your twenties and how most people do them wrong. If this was my conscious decision to rent it, I may think it was pretentious. However, I picked it up and read it. It brought me back to a moment a year ago. The snow was still crisp on the ground and the icicles hung like spears. The sun was still shy from the Earth and rested behind the clouds. The dead of winter laid upon me. The weekend nights still clung to drinks and late nights with friends. The mornings seemed unfathomable and terribly uncomfortable. Waking up at 8:00 for school seemed more like it was 5:00. I was living a life that I didn't want to change. I felt anxious about graduation and the changes that followed after. Although every time I saw him I had this lingering feeling that made the end seem less real. It wasn't an overwhelming feeling or even breath taking but it was like the small drips from the icicles when they start to melt. The icicles are there, though they do not seem to be taken notice from anyone. Yet the water drips, they splash into the snow, and when the sun comes out they glisten in the rays. Days soon passed and so did the weeks, nothing happened with the lingering feeling. Life seemed to be moving and making an attempt to be exciting. I talked to others and got myself involved in the lives' of others. I coasted along with my friends and did the same thing over and over again. The repetition wasn't noticed until hindsight. My mind did not linger to his name.
Then I noticed him. He wore a black and simple v-neck. I saw him for the first time. I took an interest in who he was, wanting to figure out what he was about. He seemed cocky and a bit full of himself from were I was looking. Although I mistaken that for a raw form of self-confidence. As the snow melted and started to release the grass and flowers from captivity, I started to make myself revealed. There was no science to this just a clear motive. I wanted to be the smell of breakfast that wakes you from your sleep. When the coffee tastes better at 9:00 in the morning instead of at noon because you cannot resist the smell. I wanted to be like the sun that shines through the blinds gently. I wanted to be the glistening dew on the grass and leaves. My approach was to be settle but then once it was to be realized it would feel like a hug that needed to be embraced.
I left dull but frank text messages for him. They meant nothing and they were suppose to mean nothing. My ways were not to impress or flaunt myself but to reveal myself slowly like when a cat brushes themselves against your leg and you don't notice them until it tickles. However I wanted to take a risk. I was moving across the country it was a risk, maybe even a foolish risk. It wasn't a game. It was noticing the icicles were melting. I waited for a response with no expectations...
I never write this way. I suppose it isn't like me to do so, I am not sure. This might be a writing style or a way to push myself into a different form of writing. When I write a blog my intentions aren't to ask for help or to show the world how "depressed" I am. My aim is to be honest and raw. It just so happens that my struggles are plastered to the wall of facebook, blogger.com, and my google+ account. But this is my choice and I'll do it over and over again. For whomever my audience is I tell you this, I'm ok. I am fine. I am living. I am doing life. I am experiencing the life I was given. My blogs might be tainted with struggles or might seem like a desperate cry for help but what would happen if you posted your daily struggles publicly?
This past Monday I got in a minor car accident and busted one of my headlights. I stressed out my back from it. And now I have to figure out how to fix and pay for it. For the last few weeks I have come to the conclusion that I don't like my job. It is so med focused that I kind of can't stand it. I wanted to write about that. Yet, I didn't want to seem like I was complaining or that I'm still in this shitty spot of figuring out adulthood.
I discovered that life in it's self is a struggle. If I happen to be the one to write about the struggles then so be it. I will be the one to do that. Sometimes at the end of the day there is no resolution but you just forget that it was a crappy day and move on to the next thing. This week a lot of things happened that I didn't like very much because it made other things very difficult. Yet, some awesome things happened. I needed extra money this month. My cousin contacted me without knowing my week was not so good and that I needed the extra money she asked if I could babysit. My boyfriend spent his entire day off with me, without me asking. It was the day after the minor accident. Things like that make me feel special. Those are some moments I live for. The small great moments make me see the big hard moments smaller. I will continue to write about what I write and maybe some day I will be raw with my big great moments. Though right now I am not willing to publicly air that as weird as that may sound. Those moments mean more to me than the hard moments. I do not cherish the hardships. I cherish the beautiful moments that I fail to describe how beautiful they are.
Then I noticed him. He wore a black and simple v-neck. I saw him for the first time. I took an interest in who he was, wanting to figure out what he was about. He seemed cocky and a bit full of himself from were I was looking. Although I mistaken that for a raw form of self-confidence. As the snow melted and started to release the grass and flowers from captivity, I started to make myself revealed. There was no science to this just a clear motive. I wanted to be the smell of breakfast that wakes you from your sleep. When the coffee tastes better at 9:00 in the morning instead of at noon because you cannot resist the smell. I wanted to be like the sun that shines through the blinds gently. I wanted to be the glistening dew on the grass and leaves. My approach was to be settle but then once it was to be realized it would feel like a hug that needed to be embraced.
I left dull but frank text messages for him. They meant nothing and they were suppose to mean nothing. My ways were not to impress or flaunt myself but to reveal myself slowly like when a cat brushes themselves against your leg and you don't notice them until it tickles. However I wanted to take a risk. I was moving across the country it was a risk, maybe even a foolish risk. It wasn't a game. It was noticing the icicles were melting. I waited for a response with no expectations...
I never write this way. I suppose it isn't like me to do so, I am not sure. This might be a writing style or a way to push myself into a different form of writing. When I write a blog my intentions aren't to ask for help or to show the world how "depressed" I am. My aim is to be honest and raw. It just so happens that my struggles are plastered to the wall of facebook, blogger.com, and my google+ account. But this is my choice and I'll do it over and over again. For whomever my audience is I tell you this, I'm ok. I am fine. I am living. I am doing life. I am experiencing the life I was given. My blogs might be tainted with struggles or might seem like a desperate cry for help but what would happen if you posted your daily struggles publicly?
This past Monday I got in a minor car accident and busted one of my headlights. I stressed out my back from it. And now I have to figure out how to fix and pay for it. For the last few weeks I have come to the conclusion that I don't like my job. It is so med focused that I kind of can't stand it. I wanted to write about that. Yet, I didn't want to seem like I was complaining or that I'm still in this shitty spot of figuring out adulthood.
I discovered that life in it's self is a struggle. If I happen to be the one to write about the struggles then so be it. I will be the one to do that. Sometimes at the end of the day there is no resolution but you just forget that it was a crappy day and move on to the next thing. This week a lot of things happened that I didn't like very much because it made other things very difficult. Yet, some awesome things happened. I needed extra money this month. My cousin contacted me without knowing my week was not so good and that I needed the extra money she asked if I could babysit. My boyfriend spent his entire day off with me, without me asking. It was the day after the minor accident. Things like that make me feel special. Those are some moments I live for. The small great moments make me see the big hard moments smaller. I will continue to write about what I write and maybe some day I will be raw with my big great moments. Though right now I am not willing to publicly air that as weird as that may sound. Those moments mean more to me than the hard moments. I do not cherish the hardships. I cherish the beautiful moments that I fail to describe how beautiful they are.
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