ScrapBook of Memories

Dear Journal,

Sometimes I feel like life passed me by and I somehow still let it do that. I get existential crisis and feel like I’m a spectator in this journey called life. Aha. Another poetic line hahaha. Sorry, I get distracted when I am sad too.

And to think that I was talking about being appreciative of being alive just yesterday. Am I a hypocrite? I think the mortality thoughts just reminded me of how much I haven’t experienced.

I thought about how much I used to want to have that comfortable youth: the college kid who only needed to worry about themselves and their bills. The one who could go on road trips with some of their savings because even if they couldn’t pay their tuition and had to skip a semester, they might have a place to stay, and wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. *screeeech.

That sounds so stupid and negative. I’m listening to Smiling When I Die by Alex Sloan and it’s fueling funny emotions. The thing is, I thought about how I would not transfer to a four-year university when I graduated from this community college mostly because I couldn’t afford it even if I sold both my kidneys and a chunk of my liver. It made me feel a little sad that I was going to miss out on a life that seemed like it had more noteworthy experiences and more interactions with people. I love people! Sometimes. A little less than sometimes… you know what? Whatever, I really cannot articulate where this frustration is coming from. I just need money and a worthy scrapbook of memories.

I want to travel. I want to go to different states in the U.S. I want to go to France, Belgium, and Japan after that. And I want my brothers to have the chance to experience the life they’ve always wanted too.

This was on my mind the whole day, so this is all I got to write about for today really.