In my mind, I landed a full-time job a few months after graduation. I’m 140 pounds. I’m an adman, designing ad campaigns for awesome things. I have immaculate business sense. I have an active social life, even though I still love sitting at home and reading. I laugh at how I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was little. I like wine and indulge every so often.
Or I’m a journalist, working an arts and entertainment column for a niche newspaper or magazine, writing quirky things while rocking a fabulous wardrobe. Or better, I’m running my own magazine. I’m living on my own in a small but oddly furnished apartment in the city. I’m in a relationship. And/or I have a cat. I still laugh about thinking of the person I wanted to be when I was a kid.
It’s funny how I imagined that I would be that person now.
I’ll never be the person that I’d thought I’d be.
It’s not what I want; if that’s what I’d wanted, I’d be giving up somehow.
I was sitting in Starbucks, writing and chatting with Cassie about how Starbucks is the quintessential place for writing-in-public. I asked if it made me a “real” writer. She called me a starving artist. I told her I wasn’t starving because I could still afford the $3 Earl Grey latte I was sipping. And a scone. I wasn’t a starving artist, I was a striving artist.
Later that day, I told my mother I wanted to be a street performer. She said she’d hope I’d have more ambition. I think it’s pretty ambitious to put yourself at the mercy of onlookers, whether I’m a living statue or a contact juggler.
One day I’ll get a tattoo because it’s something deeply personal to me, and I want those words etched into my skin.
I’ll keep pushing to get my book(s) out there. I’ll finish my manuscript and slowly rot in the editcave and venture out only for dance class and frozen yogurt.
I’ll wear glitter eyeliner everyday.
Even to bed.
I don’t want to be the person that I want to be.
In my mind, I imagine so many things, things that aren’t really happening.
It’s funny how I imagined that I could win this win-less fight. Maybe I have to think it’s funny if I wanna live before I die, and maybe it’s funniest of all to think I’ll die before I actually see…
That I am exactly the person that I want to be.