C H A P T E R T W O
FAMILY
P A R T O N E
Over these past two months, I've come to realize the kind of person that I am, or partly realize. In my younger days (and I emphasize younger because I'm still young), I never had the intellectual capacity and time to really get a good grip of my personhood. I know that I'm still a long way at really defining my...secular identity, but I think I've made great leaps this summer to getting closer to that. By leaps, I mean like little skips. Actually, not even that. You'll see.
I really don't have to give a long exposition of this partial self-discovery, I really just want to say this next line and be done with it. I've paved many roads of good intentions, left them unfinished, and have no plans on going back to finish them. Yes, it's a metaphor. I'll explain it on a later blog post (one of the many roads I've made that I've left unfinished, but this time, I'm going to finish it. Also, that was supposed to be called "The Struggle," but as you can see, it will be part two). So, what kind of a person am I? I think you know.
If not, tune in for part two.
Disclaimer: I'm writing this now because if I don't finish part two, you'll know why. Also, I really feel like I need to share this, because––despite who I think I am––God is really great. He's my inspiration for writing this, I pray that I don't let Him down.
And so we go.
I don't exactly remember the first time I heard the concept of growing up or how I reacted to hearing it. It's what every living organism does, so I guess my not having a sentimental value about it is only normal. For a long time, I thought growing up was only a physical development that people went through; you know, the whole "I'm finally tall" or "My hands are finally big enough to palm an NBA-sized basketball" thing (did people get excited about that? I know I did). But genetics, sadly, would stunt my physical growth midway through my teenage years, so I had to find another definition of this "growing up."
I find great solace in writing my thoughts, opinions, and even how my day went; however, I don't get much time to write. I want to change that now. I want to make time doing this because there's just something therapeutic about getting my mind all in one place and together. I was never one for keeping up a diary or a journal, but what a novel idea (no puns, please) would it be to share my life in an organized and well-thought out form.
I share my life via Twitter or Instagram mostly, and I just never find enough time to shorten my thoughts. I love Twitter, but that 140 character limit just cripples me; more often than not, I end up not even really voicing out my thoughts and opinions. More often than not, I live-tweet TV events just to say "Hey, I kind of maybe sorta fit in here...somewhere." But live-tweeting is annoying, and I feel like all jokes that could be written in 140 characters or under has been written already. Or maybe not. Instagram, on the other hand, is not exactly the place for long-winded, deeply emotional rhetoric. I don't exactly know what it's for, really, I feel like whatever it wanted to be in the beginning is completely lost from what it is now. But I still love it.
So now we're here. I don't exactly know where I want to go from here, but I know that I want to keep this going. This writing thing. During the day, I find myself typing in the air. Typing some story, or word, or some response to whomever I just interacted with. I know I want to write, my only real problem is that I don't want to write.
And so we go.
