Sitting by the car window the other night, I had a lightbulb moment, again.
A freelance writer. That’s what I want to be. I want to be a freelance writer.
I don’t care if it sounds too amateurish or unprofessional but that is what I want to do when daylight opens my eyes in a place I don’t know anymore but pretty sure not my comfort zone.
I always want to write. I’m talking about my dismal dream again so please bear with me. And even if I know that it’s rather not grammatically nice and correct to start a sentence with a conjunction yet I always do, I still want to write. Such a loser.
However…
I don’t want to be pulled out from my bed early in the morning to bathe in cold water, so cold that my body freezes up. And after, be forced to eat even if my taste buds aren’t conditioned yet.
I don’t want to take the same route, ride the same bus, and see the same traffic lights day by day.
I don’t want strict deadlines that pressure me and make me buy all those anti-aging creams.
I don’t want to sit in front of the desktop eight hours or more a day, walked out when my shift ends with curved back due to soreness of the ass.
I don’t want a fiendish boss who calls as I take the way to my vacation to the countryside asking me to report to him right away.
I don’t want to sleep with ease every night since I don’t have to think what can possibly happen the next day. Because basically, every day is just like all the other days. Everything becomes a routine and there are no more bolts from the blue awaiting me.
And so…
Freelancing is what I will do.
That way, I can go to places, eat foods I haven’t tasted, and not sleep in my bed every time the night falls. I can meet different bosses and can actually quit if I feel like quitting. I can meet crowds from pole to pole. I have options – lots of them. And everything in fact is under my control. I can not work when I am too sluggish and when I am so ugly to go out and see the world/and for the world to see me. I can still do the things that I love apart from writing.
So I grow – not only as a trying hard writer, but as a person. And I will have much, much, more to write about.
A freelance writer. That’s what I want to be. I want to be a freelance writer.
I don’t care if it sounds too amateurish or unprofessional but that is what I want to do when daylight opens my eyes in a place I don’t know anymore but pretty sure not my comfort zone.
I always want to write. I’m talking about my dismal dream again so please bear with me. And even if I know that it’s rather not grammatically nice and correct to start a sentence with a conjunction yet I always do, I still want to write. Such a loser.
However…
I don’t want to be pulled out from my bed early in the morning to bathe in cold water, so cold that my body freezes up. And after, be forced to eat even if my taste buds aren’t conditioned yet.
I don’t want to take the same route, ride the same bus, and see the same traffic lights day by day.
I don’t want strict deadlines that pressure me and make me buy all those anti-aging creams.
I don’t want to sit in front of the desktop eight hours or more a day, walked out when my shift ends with curved back due to soreness of the ass.
I don’t want a fiendish boss who calls as I take the way to my vacation to the countryside asking me to report to him right away.
I don’t want to sleep with ease every night since I don’t have to think what can possibly happen the next day. Because basically, every day is just like all the other days. Everything becomes a routine and there are no more bolts from the blue awaiting me.
And so…
Freelancing is what I will do.
That way, I can go to places, eat foods I haven’t tasted, and not sleep in my bed every time the night falls. I can meet different bosses and can actually quit if I feel like quitting. I can meet crowds from pole to pole. I have options – lots of them. And everything in fact is under my control. I can not work when I am too sluggish and when I am so ugly to go out and see the world/and for the world to see me. I can still do the things that I love apart from writing.
So I grow – not only as a trying hard writer, but as a person. And I will have much, much, more to write about.
1 comment:
if only i could write like that. that's one thing i admire about you plus your being fashionista. hehe
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