Two Beers and an Hour of Solitude

I live a very full life; I have a great family, great friends, great boyfriend.
But sometimes I forget about me.

Usually people change their minds twice, four, eight times before they decide “What they want to be when they grow up”… My mind has never changed.

I’ve engraved the will to compete, to concentrate, to create in all aspects of life to obtain it. But sometimes, I forget. I forget why I fell in love with writing.

I’ve filled my life with education, experience, and inspiration- giving and receiving.

I’ve focused on commas, allegories, and 12 pt. font. I’ve stayed on the paved path in a rain forest. I’ve forgotten to get lost.I’ve forgotten. Oh! how I’ve forgotten. To lose myself in the keyboard, the pen, the hundreds of blank pages ready to read, and ready to be inked.

Some people spend their whole lives searching for something that gives them passion. Something that makes work, bearable; and in fact something that’s hardly work at all. I’ve been fortunate enough to have lived my life with a clear passion, a clear vision of my purpose in the world.Tonight is the first night I’ve been alone in a long time. Not the kind of sad, ‘I’m alone :( ‘, kind of sad- but just the kind of alone that leaves you sitting on the bed and realizing for the first time in months you can hear your own thoughts.

For the first time in months, I could do anything. So I did.. I did what any normal college kid would do.

I made my bed, popped a panini in the maker and cracked open a cold one.Normally, I would be lucky enough to finish a couple beers with friends on the weekends.. but guess what? I’ve just cracked open beer number two.

This is rare- all of it. I’ve been able to make a panini, and drink a couple of beers without it going cold, or getting warm.  I’ve been able to lose myself in the last 337 uninterrupted words.

I love my life, every part of it. But sometimes it’s nice to return home to the imagination of little 12, 14, 18 year old me. To return back to the place of origination. Back to the place it all began.

I’ve come to the realization the key to being a happy person- you have to make time to do the things you love. You have to remind yourself why you put up with the long days of work and the lectures with no foreseeable end. You have to remember. You have to let yourself become lost in the love and lust of your passions. You must do this not only for you- but for the sake of writing.

I also just spent the last three minutes testing the word count in the bottom left corner- I don’t think it’s very accurate….

Anyway, the key to happiness my friends? Simply, two beers and an hour of solitude.

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