the time will pass anyway

There are few things from tumblr that I think about on a regular basis, but one of them is that post where someone was worrying about their future and putting off doing what they want and someone responded to it by saying the time will pass anyway. It was a profound thought on a website plagued with accidental profound thoughts that has been stuck in my mind for years. 

Just yesterday I was nineteen and trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted and today I am thirty doing the exact same thing, but with a few more regrets. There is something incredibly humbling and ego boosting about knowing that nineteen year old you was right about the most important parts of yourself. She knew writing and pictures would make her happy and yet? A degree sits collecting dust on my shelf that has nothing, really, to do with either of those things. The kind of distraction that settling gives is seductive, especially when the promise of security hangs in the air like a perfume. It’s intoxicating, especially if you’re someone like me who has a tendency to thrive in chaos but is surrounded by those who do not. Settling would mean people would stop trying to force feed their opinions to you, which is sometimes reason enough to consider it.

If you’re lucky, what you left behind will be waiting for you to pick it up again. There are so many people who give up on their dreams and ambitions because they are pushed in the direction of the smarter, more realistic thing to do. Most of the time it’s to take the job, get the degree, wait for the perfect opportunity to do whatever it is that you actually want to do with your life. We live one life and I’m not supposed to take any opportunity to stand in the sun I can get? Being able to sit at my laptop or with a pen and paper and still feel the specific kind of joy while writing that I did when I was fifteen and thought I would be the next big author is a gift I don’t intend on wasting for the rest of my life. The joy of creating characters to follow around a plot with is a feeling that lives in my entire body and I had allowed myself to forget how good it felt and how fun it really was to do that. Who am I to deny myself that joy?

This idea that the time will move whether you want it to or not has been comforting. Seasons change and nothing is truly stagnant so fuck it! Do what you will with your life! It’s yours for fucks sake! We exist in a society in which the art of self expression is only celebrated when it can be nationally commodified. May we all rid ourselves of the sentiment that anything that we create, even for ourselves, can only be counted as beautiful if thousands of other people agree. 

The time will pass anyway, and your ideas will become someone else’s should you choose to leave them lying around for others to pick up. 

The time will pass anyway, so either settle into your mediocrity with a smile or take up that which terrifies you and do it anyway. 

Time will pass anyway, so forgive yourself the sins of your past and move forward.