...and it's really because I don't have much to say. And by not much to say, I really mean... I have nothing to say.
It dawned on me a while ago how insignificant the life I have really is. And how it could slip between my fingers in a matter of seconds. Today/tonight could be the last few hours of my life. This may seem morbid - but it's not like I'd be the first person to die young. And it's also not like this is the first time this thought had crossed my mind. I've often been concerned about how little I've done with my life.
Here's the thought process:
I'm only 22, but my "goal" in life is to have fun. That's the whole plan. And that's not really much of a plan. So, then I think... "Well, what have I really done with my life?" This question is me hoping that I've done SOMETHING that has effected SOMEONE in a life-changing way. This is where I realize that I have truly never done any one thing that was "life-changing" or effective. I've directed a few plays and have inspired some people to actually pursue theatre. I've even "rescued" a few plays. I've directed children's musicals and taught Sunday school. I was a youth leader for about 4 years and led worship for about 8 years. I can honestly say that I've made over 12,000 people smile.
I've done a bunch of totally random things. But I've never done one thing that stood out or made a true, lasting impression on something/someone (outside of knowing many people who are younger than me and scared to let me be in charge of planning games for fear that they may end up playing football with a cow tongue). I am not someone that people will write about in History Books. And therein lies my problem (yeah, I know it's my problem). Sure. I've probably had a small impact on a few people. I know I have friends who will have their kids call me their aunt. And I know I have friends who will tell their kids about me if I never meet them.
My goal should be to be something historical (which is funny 'cause I hate aging).
I have no idea what I could do to become someone worthy of writing about. I'm not someone to look up to (not just because I'm barely over 5 feet tall). So, my point is... I'm 22... This could easily be the last few days I'm alive. But even if I have only lived a quarter of my life, I have not accomplished much. If my next 22 years are as unawesome as the last, I will never make a real difference in the world.
I'm not even sure how to begin to attempt beginning to make a difference. And sometimes I think that may be why I've started blogging. Maybe one of these random, lame free-writes will get me thinking and get my inspiration for writing rolling again and I'll really get cracking on that book I'm trying to write and then maybe somehow some idiotic, moronic publisher will think it's worthy of publishing and I'll get it published and it'll be worthy of a few people's time and money. And then maybe they'll each share it with someone who will share it with people and then I'll "have a name for myself" and be able to die knowing that I may have made some sort of a difference in a group of people's lives.
Who knows.
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