How the freak do you know what to do?

I have no idea what to do with my life. That's what I realized as I was anxiously signing up for my college classes two days ago.

Here's my short story.


As an 8-year old, I loved to read, draw, cook and swim. And watch TV and sing and show off. Obviously.

In the beginning, I wanted to be an artist. I didn't know what artists did. I just liked drawing and I had to be an artist.

After that, I grew older. Fourth grade, to be exact. I wanted to work in the FBI, like all those cool people with sunglasses and special gadgets and guns.

But that dream died in less than a year, and I started to fall in love with writing. I read and read, and wrote and wrote. I overflowed notebooks and journals numerous times. I wrote short stories, poems, and even attempted to write a book. I got to page 50. Seventh grade. Then, I moved to New York.

Everything I loved had to be put to a stop. Moving 3000 miles away was hard. New Yorkers were weird. They were impatient and such angry people. The girls looked 5 years older than their actual age. The boys looked 5 years younger. They were all so awkward and picky. I had no idea what I was doing. Eighth grade went by in a flash, and needless to say, I don't remember much of what happened.

During that time, I had forgotten everything I loved. My passion for swimming died, and I stopped writing for a year. I fell behind in music and current trends, and was stuck on missing California. When I got bored, I took out a piece of paper and drew, because it was the only thing I could do.

When freshmen year came, I had no real passion. All I knew was that I was pretty good at art, so that's what I went for. An easy way out. I was accepted into a special arts program in high school. Once I was in it, I hated it. I hated being forced to draw. I hated not having any inspiration.

I quit the program and went back to being a normal person by Sophomore year. It's not hard to figure out why. And another year went by without any interest or passion. I gave no thought about my future or my academics. I didn't care, and my carelessness didn't really bother me.

Then I wasted my Junior year away. If I could, I would rewind time and get my 11th grade back. But life doesn't work that way. All I can say is that I stopped writing and drawing. I stopped doing everything altogether. I literally wasted away during the year.

Twelfth grade came. A wake up call to the real world. Time to apply for colleges and think of what to do with my future. When did high school pass by so quickly? Nobody ever told me how fast time would pass by. Why didn't anybody tell me to use my time wisely? Why hadn't anyone warned me of this tragedy? If I had known before, I would not have wasted my time on such momentary things. I would not have wasted my nights catching up with anime and manga. I would not have slept in class. I would not have BS-d my homework. I would not have ignored all the love and help my family poured out at me. I wouldn't have.

But it's not like I can go back to change the past. I guess I wonder, how do people know what to do with their lives? Because I didn't know, and I still don't.



If today was your last day. It's an amazing song.

If I could, I would hold onto time as long as possible. Hold onto this moment. Hold onto my memories. Hold onto it all, because once I let go, they will never come back. It's pathetic, but I wish Time was more understanding.

Sorry, that was not a short story.