Maps. (NaPoWriMo day #29)

freedom is awful.
it’s as if your life were a piece of paper to draw
on, and you were given only a broken crayon
to fill it in with. you were taught to read maps,
in your life, at the very start, but never before
to actually make one. now, you have no other
option. that’s life after education. do you follow
a path that keeps your stomach full, and your
greed a bottomless mug of happy liquids or
do you do something that keeps your brain
on its toes, your heart constantly on fire with
every challenge looking like it cannot be your
last – but you probably wouldn’t mind? what if
both of these activities collide – you’ll be crowned
the lucky few, you conquerors of statistics. but
oh, if it so happens that you end up at the sorry
average end of the spectrum – well then, they
would push to have you follow your dreams –
so easy – until you realise that maybe you are
not so great at it, maybe it is nothing like you
imagined it to be, or maybe – maybe, that your
dream was only alluring when you were into
this whole other thing that you knew you never
really liked, and hoped for the one day it would
make you the sum to allow you to pursue that
now broken ‘dream’? what does the word mean
anyway, and why does everybody talk about it?
why are we only allowed that one passion, your
one sole dream, your one true calling – which in
case you reach, what then? how do you pick
something and be so sure you would not want
to rip your hair out doing it – or of the others
around you doing it – until you’re actually, well,
doing it? is it about what you like, what you
think you would like. what you’re good at, what
you think you’re good at. for all the talk about
words and actions, do these two entities ever
really form the synergy we so romanticise?
is life simply a series of jobs we do, desks we
slug at, people we yell at and get yelled by at,
until we are taken away by a sense of finality
so strong that we cannot be pursuing even
one other thing? isn’t the whole point of maps
to give you multiple routes to the exact same
destination, or seemingly same routes to two
(or more!) completely different ones? all of our
choices change direction, some tangentially
so, and with the kind of subtlety that instead
of having you lead, you are left to catch up
with? and in this incomplete map of chaos,
defined more by people than by roads, with
higher chances of you losing sight of the
path you carelessly scribbled, where should
we carve out a rest stop for us
to catch a breath?

~

Maps.
[day 29 of #NaPoWriMo]

Inspired by a quote from Michelle Obama’s Becoming:
“It’s one of the most useless questions an adult can ask a child… ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ As if growing up is finite. As if, at some point, you become something and that’s the end.”

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