I know I need to write more. And I know I have said that multiple times before. There are days I dream about writing and blogging, creating a blog that has a set focus. You know like all those incredible people out there who have one focus (gardening, parenting, body building, religion, travel, food) the list goes on and on and on. Those creative writers have their one sole focus and they stay on task, they rarely sway from their "about me" and from their blog's title, and yet they still blog twice, thrice a week. if not more.
And here I am. I can't stay on task, I can't stay focused. I'm in my 3rd job in less than year, I'm taking classes at my 5th college, I've been single and mingling for well over 22 of my soon to be 24 years. I still change clothes threes times a day. Yesterday I had one of those "I want to run, I want to leave all these commitments and I want to be in Iceland, right now" - what?? .... I want to run from my commitment of my dog and online classes and awesome roommates, all of which I have had for less than 5 months. What do I want to run from? Or rather do I just want to run from myself because I'm becoming settled again (and 'settled' has a very stretched definition in my world and it tends to look much different than the rest of society's)
So I decided instead of wasting more time, trying to think of a single topic I can focus on and write about day after day. I will just embrace my current title "journey junkie". This journey I am currently on, whatever that is. This journey of a 20-something-year old trying to find herself, her God; the things she desires and the things she detests. I am trying to become the person I want to be, the right person; while it seems like everyone else around me is looking for that right person. So, maybe I am on a selfish journey, maybe I am on an immature one looking for maturity, or a journey trying to avoid adulthood with all I can. It's a journey I guess; always has been and always will be.
And here I am a junkie. every day, every single day, I'm a junkie. I have compulsive habits and these obsessive dependencies on the most ridiculous of things. I'm addicted to changing, growing, moving. I'm dependent on relationships and my independency. My habits are every where from popping my knuckles, to profanity, from face masks and sleeping in fields. To drinking tea every night before bed, to splurging on sugar every time I'm stressed. I'm addicted to living life fully, to loving people with my whole being, to desiring to be an emotional wreck just to feel. (even though the tears have had a hard time coming lately)
So here I am. A junkie on a journey. An addict on an adventure. A pilgrim on a path. However you want to look at it. I'm broken and I tend to be an ugly mess, I have permanent bruises, physically and emotionally. And I am going, constantly and consistently, going to try to become a better woman, to try and become the lady, the friend, the leader, the achiever, the servant, the lover, I've always wanted to be.
So read along with me or not. Thats ok. One conclusion my twenties have finally brought about, I am writing not for those reading, but for my spilling soul to reach a resolving reconciliation with itself.
