More and more I find myself asking this very question, “What do I want to be?” I’ve spent most of my life behind the keyboard of a computer or clutching a pencil, writing out my feelings, thoughts, and emotions on paper and pixel in an attempt to nail down what exactly drives me. What is it about writing that keeps pulling me back in? What is it about creating something out of nothing that excites me so much? Why do I spend all of my day reading article after article but feel so drained when I try to attempt to write about anything in which I lack passion? I can’t imagine that every story a journalist writes they care deeply about. Maybe it’s the field they cover? Maybe it’s the power their words carry? I just don’t know. I know that it’s an often brought up topic on this blog, my writing, but I can’t seem to escape it. I keep coming back to find out what I enjoy and what my purpose actually is-to be explicitly clear, I do not believe in the idea of divine purpose or anything similar. I just recognize that I have a natural drive that relates to writing and creating.

Growing up I still have a lot of questions. I don’t ask them often though. I think it’s because I’m scared of the answers, but it might just be because I’m scared of what the questions will show the world about me. “Does anybody know what they actually want to do?” is one of them. Does anybody? Please, if you do, let me know.