I push boundaries. I stay up until I see the sun peeking over the mountains. I smile when everything hurts. I write until my vision is blurry.
And then I do it all over again.
I believe in this crazy idea that if you are not giving all of yourself and then some, there is someone out there working harder than you are.
Someone could be across the street devoting every waking minute to snatching that final internship or that promotion that you’ve had your eye on, but you’re distracted by the celebrities in the news instead of the words on a page.
In philosophy, it is a widely held belief that progress and purpose go hand in hand; without one the other cannot exist.
I want a purpose. What is my purpose?
In a recent essay, which I am contemplating posting here, I wrote “The meaning of my life is simple: to change and be changed.” I have certainly changed, through experiences and people, but what will I do with this change? How will I use it to my advantage?
Everyone experiences change. Everyone yearns for something. Life is limited. Go out and live it to its fullest extent.
Purpose is a tricky thing, you see. Once you have answered one question, a dozen more pop up to replace it. I have enough questions about life in general without delving into specifics, especially in regards to my own life.
I’d like to think that I’m important in some way to the events of the world, but doesn’t everyone?
No matter if I am meaningful to history or not, I will leave a legacy for people to remember. That’s my purpose.
After all, I never believed in destiny. Or if I do, I write my own.