While not exactly the first of January any more, I’m still pretty much hyped up over the “new year” because I’m weird like that. There’s nothing like the prospect of a fresh start to make my mind wander, and throughout the past couple of days I’ve found myself contemplating my life.
Have I done anything at all that I could be proud of twenty years from now?
What am I going to do for the rest of the year?
That chocolate smoothie I had this afternoon was really nice. When can I have another one?
If I tally up all the things I did in 2011 and assess them one by one by my personal standards, I would have only a few things to be really proud of, a couple of things I’m sorta proud of, and one helluva pile of what was I thinking?! moments.
Thinking about my achievements led to me thinking about what I could have done if I had not quit so easily on some things — because yeah, I’m a quitter. Not in the sense that I just quit on that exact moment I feel like quitting, but it’s more of a gradual thing. Say I’m starting a new project… The first few weeks — months, maybe — I’d be super thrilled. Then as the excitement wears off, I’d begin to get bored before finally I’d decide to quit. That’s what happened to the violin lessons I was taking a couple of years ago, and now I’m getting this itching feeling that I should take it up again.
Maybe it’s fate, or perhaps I’m just inspired by these videos I’ve seen on YouTube today:
(You can’t really tell, but I’m a big fan of Adele’s music.)
So anyway, should I take up the violin again? I like listening to the instrument and everything, but there’s a big difference between liking how it sounds to actually learning to play it. It takes perseverance, dedication and hard work. And a violin, because it just so happens that I forgot mine back in the Philippines… -_-‘
Speaking of perseverance, dedication and hard work, there is one aspect of my life that come to mind when those three words are uttered: writing. More specifically, creative writing. When I was fourteen, young aspiring writer that I was, I remember writing an essay about what my chosen goals in life was. I wrote down ‘create a novel by the age of sixteen’ and, well… hehehe. I’m way past sixteen (my birthday was in December ^_^) and still I have no novel to speak of. So I’ve decided to move it up to eighteen and whoa, if I’m considering to carry out that goal then I better start writing, shouldn’t I?
But I’m so busy with school! And chores! And specific social obligations (read: hanging out with friends)!
I guess I’m just procrastinating, aren’t I? I better shift myself into gear and write this baby down. I mean, I have a plot ready and everything. All it needs is to be brought to life. I’m going to enjoy this journey, honest.