Who am I?
Why am I here?
What is my purpose?
Where should I go next?
How can I accomplish this?
Is this what I'm supposed to be choosing?
I wonder if all young adults feel like this. I wonder if all adults feel like this. Sometimes I feel like a road trip without a destination. Sometimes I feel like a tree with no roots. Most of the time I'm terrified. I try to remember that all good books have moments like this. Stumped. Writer's block. No idea what's going to happen next; it could be any number of things!
I carry all my stress in my right shoulder, just like my mom. I wish the sun would come back because it's easier to make hard decisions when it's a tomato-growing temperature. In fact, it's easier to do most anything when you don't have to wear a coat.
It's a battle between the inner hero and the inner coward. The two halves of me are constantly butting heads, debating pros and cons, whether to give priority to head or heart. It's easier to make hard decisions when you are sure of yourself. I would not classify myself as "sure" in any way shape or form.
Every good book has a great ending.
One step at a time.
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