Clueless.

I believe I am now in the middle of something good. At least, something that will lead me to something very good. But as of the moment, I am now in the process of... getting there, where I want to be, wherever that is, because, honestly, I'm not all that sure about what I really, really, really, specifically want right now. In fact, I'm not really sure about a lot of things. But, strangely, it feels very good to not know. I just know good things are coming. I just know it. I mean, they have to, right?

At least I know what I need to do right now. Sort of. Haha.

But I just can't help but wonder when something really beautiful will happen to me. The Happily Ever After sort of thing. 

Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I just need a break. Maybe I need to go to the beach, and soak myself in seawater, and get a tan. The sort that makes me look radiant, according to my classmate.

Maybe one day life's going to be simple. Maybe that's what I really want.

But what would it mean to have a simple life anyway?

In Art School

We were told to squint our eyes.  

Squint, to wipe away those minute details that take our attention away from the general picture.  Squint, to forget, for one moment, the intricate parts of the composition.  Squint, and take a few steps back, while you're at it.  How does the picture look, washed of all embellishments?  Squint harder.  Look at the shapes, look at the values, look at the form in its entirety.  In what direction do your eyes travel?  Do they move in straight lines?  In curves?  In circles?  Do they dance about? Can you hear the music?  No? Ah, there is silence.  There is stillness.  There is potential.  Squint harder.  See how the picture shivers?  It struggles to remain as it is.  Squint harder, squint harder.  Until it disappears altogether.  Keep your eyes closed, and wait for an image to burn through the heavy curtains.

The first entry.

I wonder if it's true that the first defines the rest.  That the beginning foreshadows the middle and end--if there is an end!  If it's true, then this is one very important entry.  But why should this one entry carry such a heavy burden?  Is this first entry really responsible for the state of the rest of this blog?  

Maybe not.

I'd like to think that no matter what the first is like, one can always choose to progress, and progress, and progress.  Until, one day, we look back, back to the very first, and think I can't believe that was me.