What I want to do

I don’t want to be defined by what I produce. I don’t want a job that takes everything from me and gives nothing back, a job that I dream about quitting, that I have to tell myself is only temporary just so I can get up in the morning.  I don’t want to have to pay to be alive. I don’t want 5 weeks off each year to forget my misery. I don’t want to live my life in a numbing haze, walking around like I’m in a dream, I don't want to be the passive spectator of my own generic tragedy. I don’t want to wake up some day and realise that I’m forty and have no idea where it all went. I don’t want to lie and say that I’m happy, and then turn on the tv and watch the Kardashians living their lives, just to have something to dream about.

I want to travel and to love. I want to wake up late with a hangover which reminds me I’m alive, I want to spend my days watching movies, and reading books, and I want to meet people who inspire me, and spend my nights walking around with them, and drinking and laughing and talking with them, in a cramped apartment with a tiny balcony. I want to spend my life watching and learning how to see, speaking and learning how to talk, hearing and learning how to listen. I want to learn how to read, and learn how to write. I want to fall in love as often and as hard as possible, I want to make friends that I couldn’t ever forget, I want to be hated, I want to be loved, I want to feel miserable and glorious all in one breath, I want to feel everything, everything, I want to be overwhelmed by it all, so that I end up weak from exhaustion, that healthy exhaustion which only comes from having lived with passion, and fall asleep as soon as I crawl back to my bed. And when I wake up I want to start all over again.