This Is It.

I’ve been staring at this stupid screen for 53 minutes now figuring out what to say. I’ve typed and deleted typed and deleted typed and deleted. But then I went through my thoughts from the past two years, only to feel sad about the words I wrote down in that exact moment. Out of all the emotions I managed to find something that stuck to me. It’s like my past-self knew my future-self would need these words:



“I honestly had to stop everything I was doing to jot down my thoughts because they have filled my head all day and refuse to leave. Last night I had three complete different people go out of their way to give me their own lesson in life. I can’t ignore the coincidence of those individuals feeling the need to reach out, especially within the two hours it all happened. Lately I have been so consumed with the thought of graduating college and not having the same freedom I’ve experienced for the past four years. I have been saying yes to everything because I am afraid this is it, in three months I receive my diploma where I then leave this little town and get a job.

I’ve been sucked into this delusion of following expectations that I forgot I can literally do whatever the hell I want!! I can move to Colorado for two months, I can move to California and live my dreams, I can volunteer abroad, I can do whatever the fuck I want to do because this is my life. This is all you get. And I think that’s the most important thing to remember, is that this is it. There’s no do-over.”

I read this and then re-read it again and again. You. Can. Do. What. Ever. You. Want. I just really needed to hear this tonight.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s