#50.

day o2.

where you'd like to be in 10 years.

dear thirty,

this is from you, twenty years young.

current truth: i'm scared of 'future'.

ever since i was little, i've always dreaded answering the question "what do you want to be when you grow up?"

while all other kids had definite answers about what they wanted, mine was a giant empty blank: devoid of any real plans. scary. foreboding.

i just want to be happy.

i used to think that that was a sufficient answer; now i realize, it is just an excuse. an excuse to not bother thinking about it until it was too late. like in all other aspects of my life, i procrastinated until it really screwed me over.

another current truth: i have no idea what i want to do with my life.

things i do know: i need to rectify my procrastination and start being mature. i need to start thinking about the big picture--about my likes and dislikes and how to integrate them into my big picture.

marx said that work should equate the passions of an individual; that people should strive to do work--that it should emphasize enjoyment rather than economic gain. you ever realize the importance of passion until one day, you wake up, only to discover you hate your life.

i dislike things with too much structure, yet stability is a necessity.

ten years from now, i will be thirty and i will have taken sufficient risks to end up in a career i love. (possible options: pediatrician, lawyer, intelligence officer in CSIS) i will be well-traveled, multilingual, and i will have opened my heart to a man whom i will love, even when he's old and crinkly. we will live together in a cute vintage flat in montreal, where our children will grow up speaking interchangeably between french & english.

but most of all, i will have made a positive difference in at least one individual's life; i will never have forgotten how to smile, how to be polite, and the importance of kindness; i will have been wild and every day, i will live life to the fullest.

things i realize now: when i was younger, i really was honest with myself. because to be happy, isn't that what we should hope for? and the giant blank box is not just full of emptiness but also, potential. i hope that i will have, thirty.

love,
twenty