Tag Archive | goal

What Do You Want with Your Life?

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I’ve been nagging myself with that question in these past few months but I still don’t know what my ultimate goal is.

Sure, I want to be sucessful. I want a stable job and a simple life with a family. I want a life that I don’t have to worry about not being able to eat tomorrow. That I can provide for myself and my family. It was just a simple dream. But the thing is, it felt impossible. Unattainable. That I really have to go out of the country just to attain that. Because in here, my profession is in vain.

And there goes writing. I want writing to be my profession, not just a hobby, but my parents didn’t allow me to take any writing related courses so instead, I became a licensed Pharmacist. Not that I hate my current job. I love being a Pharmacist but I just don’t like the current practice here in my country.

I know I don’t need to have a degree just to write. But knowing you are well qualified still means something.

I know a lot of things. I read a lot. I know how to do them. But I still feel insufficient. I still feel useless.

Maybe I just missed my regular readers in college. Since we graduated, I barely see them. My colleagues at work don’t even read. I don’t understand why they never read novels. Probably, they never read a book that could amaze them. Or they were just so lazy to open and read one.

Sometimes, I want to hate my life. That I felt unlucky compared to others in my age. But I know it’s not true. I’m lucky. I get to do a lot of things I love. I can write anything I want.

But what do I want with my life?

Aside from those simple things, my ultimate goal probably is: To be able to share to the world my stories and novels and poems, hoping somehow they could inspire them. I know I have a lot to learn. And what I learned would be shared as well.

Or maybe, I am just insane. What about you? Do you have the same question in life?

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Writer’s Depression

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For the past few days, I’d been suffering from–what I call–Writer’s Depression.

I got to a point that I no longer know what I want with my life.
That I was no longer sure if I should pursue on this writing path I’m in.
My real profession is also in vain.
I felt so pathetic and helpless.
I felt so useless even to my family.
That what I earn is never enough for my family.
That I thought of leaving this world for good.
I wished to sleep forever.

But I fought it.
I know those thoughts were not true.
A lot of people cares about me.
I’m in a plateau state of my current profession.
My writing career is only about to start, after I finished polishing this manuscript I’m working on.
Suicide is not an option.

I told myself:
I’m a fighter. I’m not giving up on this. I’ve been on this writing world for 9 long years and I can’t just stop now.
I’m still young. I have a long way to go. There are still a lot of people in this world who likes to read like me.