Tag Archives: reflection

Feasible Acceptance

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Today I’m going to be working on my college applications. I’m still struggling over how I’m going to bring it up to my parents that I’m absolutely done… with nursing. I can’t stand the fact that I let it drag out for too long and convinced almost everyone that I’m going to end up becoming a nurse.

I hate that I did that.

I have to accept all the negative comments I’ll be receiving soon. I just don’t want to deal with it now. I know I should confront the issue, but I don’t want to be put down while I’m still in this dream-like state. I don’t know how long this will last, but I hope it doesn’t fade out before the year ends.

I’m scared because I don’t know what will become of this major I’m pursuing. I’m not too sure about becoming a teacher. I’m a bit reserved and it takes time for me to become comfortable. I don’t see myself working with kids because I was not raised around younger kids. I always associated with people my age. I’m not sure what it would be like working with middle schoolers or high schoolers either. I could imagine being a tutor or counselor of some sort, but again, that remains uncertain.

Although I’d love to become a writer, it leaves me with an unstable career because that would leave it up to my drive and motivation during the time to be able to create something pleasing to publish. I’d love to be a travel blogger. That would be a dream career for me, but money is an issue.

There’s so much I could partake in with an English degree, but I’ll have to wait and see where this will take me.

A lot of information runs through my mind everyday. I could probably write one-shots every single day because I’m an avid daydreamer. I have scenarios about everything that goes on in my life.

People think I don’t listen and space out, thinking about nothing. No.

I observe and take in my environment; music being my stimulant for creative juice. People don’t understand me. I don’t know how many times I’ve said this. I tend to talk about myself a lot or write about my interests. I feel that I do this because I always have to explain to others what I’m really about… I’m just that confusing to people.

Sometimes I have to write it out and read it over and over again to try to figure out who I am because whenever I’m asked about my interests, I start to clam up and forget. That’s just me. It stuns me every time I’m placed under the spotlight, where people are watching or judging me to hear what I have to say.

All of this helps me if I keep going at it. I used to write short paragraphs about who I was all about. I feel that I’m much more better at explaining who I am through writing. It’s a shame that I’m unable to express it verbally.

I’ve always had this impending feeling of doom whenever I got stared at; even though I tend to do that myself, upon others because I’m curious about my surroundings and the people I encounter.

Writing is healing. I truly believe the meaning of it. It feels good because everything I’ve ever thought about gets recorded, a sense of release. I let go of negativity this way.

I find that whenever I don’t write, I end up thinking about all this negativity and let it consume my thoughts, which leads to an unproductive day.

I want to explore and study abroad. To further creativity, you need to explore; not just sift through experiences, especially when you’re just cooped up at home. It helps to write freely in different environments, other than your usual spot at home.
Passion is strongest when you’re at ease.

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Very random post I did when I was using 750words.com. I had to omit some parts, but I did go over 750 words with this one. If you haven’t tried that site, you should as an exercise to get you going.

When my mind wanders…

Yesterday, I read something inspiring. I’m the type that likes to search for the meaning of life; to find my purpose. We’re all different. We keep telling each other that no one’s the same. I never looked into it, just accepted and ignored this saying. I moved on with my life, hearing “we’re all different” constantly. People keep telling me I’m different. I’m odd; just a bit off-beat in a tune.

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Continue reading When my mind wanders…