birth. Life, I mean, life starts with birth and ends with death. Life is so strange to me, we are born from two people, at least the physical, but where do our souls come from. What makes us, us? Like our personalities, where do they come from, and the scarier question is where do they go?

I’ve often found myself pondering this exact question, dreading the day I find out. A huge pit would fill my stomach every time I thought about it. The world would close in, and I couldn’t breathe. Later on I would find out this was the first of many panic attacks, although I never knew I had them.

See, my parents had a different approach to parenting, you’re fine! What other kids would call depression or anxiety, simply didn’t exist in my life. I had the opposite of self-diagnosing I would suffer through thinking it was normal. Which depression and anxiety is pretty normal in this day and age, but I never called it that I was simply always scared or sad.

Anyways I’m straying too far from the path.

Life, people spend their whole life trying to find meaning, but what if there isn’t one. That’s not very catholic of me. I constantly feel like I’m losing my life, like I should be doing something more.

When you die, everyone says you have 7 minutes of brain activity which is usually spent reliving your life. I don’t want to have 7 minutes of me sitting in my room crying. I want to have memories. Easier said than done. If i’m being honest I don’t think my life will start till I leave school. I’ve been here forever and honestly, I think I need a change of scenery. Don’t get me wrong, its had its moments, but I need more, a lot more.

I want to do something with my life, and make a name for myself. Which is a lot harder than it sounds. I hope I achieve it, but at the bare minimum, I’d like to be happy. I think everyone does.

I think I’ve come to terms with death although I still worry, and it scares me shitless, it’s not that bad. I hope to be one of those old people who climb Mount Everest and do intense hikes when I want. I want to be that old person who says ” i’m ready to go, i’ve lived a beautiful life and i’m ready”. Actually, I hope to perform till the day I die, maybe sprinkle a movie or two in there. One day I want to find myself in a stadium full of people coming to see me, and suddenly falling silent because the crowd is singing my song for me. Millions of voices intertwined into one beautiful melody being sung to me. That’s when I’d know I’m ready.

Thats when I’d call my life complete.

Anyways as usual I’ve gone way over the 150 words, ciao!