Lately I have been having this feeling of doing so much yet receiving little or no fulfillment at all. Growing up I was an idealist, I believed that I could make a difference in this world. I had this sense of urgency to serve humanity, to do my part for the greater good of people but somehow along the way I lost all these visions. Is it growing up and realizing reality...I am still trying to figure that out.
I remember a local newspaper did a story on the private Muslim school I attended for the first graduating class of the school. The journalist asked me what I wanted to become and I knew right then and there I was destined for journalism, I didn't hesitate to give her an answer quickly. She asked me why I chose that particular field, and the answer I gave her haunts me until today. I wanted to bring to light stories of struggle, I wanted fair journalism to bring attention the views of the mis-represented such as Muslim-Americans. To give them a chance to share their side of the story, rather than been depicted as cruel callous beings.
I understand that maybe I wasn't destined for journalism, everyone is poised to change their mind a gazillion of times. You could grow up thinking that you wanted to be a doctor go to college and realize that was the last thing you wanted to do. But the core of my plan should have never changed, that of which to serve humanity.
Now, I just find myself chasing that dollar and making the wealthy wealthier. What happened to my visions, my goals, my dreams have they all been bought up by the mighty dollar? I cannot continue to live like this any longer, although I am fortunate that I am still young and able to turn around my life. I do not want to be 70 years old and wishing I could have done something. Coulda, woulda...no! I am not going to look back at my life and dwell on the "ifs", I want to be that 17 year old again who could move a crowd with just a few words, the one who used to dream big with pure unadulterated plans. I want this empty feeling to disappear.
I remember reading Kerouac's On the Road once....and this line struck my mind:
"...because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
that's how I want to become again!
I remember a local newspaper did a story on the private Muslim school I attended for the first graduating class of the school. The journalist asked me what I wanted to become and I knew right then and there I was destined for journalism, I didn't hesitate to give her an answer quickly. She asked me why I chose that particular field, and the answer I gave her haunts me until today. I wanted to bring to light stories of struggle, I wanted fair journalism to bring attention the views of the mis-represented such as Muslim-Americans. To give them a chance to share their side of the story, rather than been depicted as cruel callous beings.
I understand that maybe I wasn't destined for journalism, everyone is poised to change their mind a gazillion of times. You could grow up thinking that you wanted to be a doctor go to college and realize that was the last thing you wanted to do. But the core of my plan should have never changed, that of which to serve humanity.
Now, I just find myself chasing that dollar and making the wealthy wealthier. What happened to my visions, my goals, my dreams have they all been bought up by the mighty dollar? I cannot continue to live like this any longer, although I am fortunate that I am still young and able to turn around my life. I do not want to be 70 years old and wishing I could have done something. Coulda, woulda...no! I am not going to look back at my life and dwell on the "ifs", I want to be that 17 year old again who could move a crowd with just a few words, the one who used to dream big with pure unadulterated plans. I want this empty feeling to disappear.
I remember reading Kerouac's On the Road once....and this line struck my mind:
"...because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
that's how I want to become again!
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