I think there is another version of me struggling to emerge from my existing boundations. A wilder, freer me who loves adventure, the thrill of the blood pulsing through her fingertips. The 'me' who is a bit of a rebel; who doesn't listen to what people around her say, and doesn't really care. Who would belt out songs at high volumes, not caring how terrible she is at singing or how loud she is. Who would leave her dream of being a doctor in the blink of an eye and end up as an artist.

Then I think that the other version is too open, too wild, too eager. As soon as I give up control, she will tear my future to shreds by leading me down addictive crevasses and voids. I will never be patient enough to be an artist, good enough to be a singer, confident enough to be an orator, talented enough to do anything, really. I will be another worthless human among millions of other worthless humans.

So I decide to stay as I am. A quiet, slightly eccentric, probably more than a little crazy person. But still, I can't help but wonder: how long since I'm tested by life again, how long since the coin flips again, and lands on the other side? Will I be able to suppress the bold part of me forever? I doubt it.

...

I have decided the most risky path. Because as they say, there is no satisfaction without risk. I will roll my coin on its edge. I will walk the fine line between bold and passive. I will find my own, new centre of gravity and remould the coin to lie flat, not on any face, but on its edge.


#choices




Thanks for reading
XOXO
An

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