Recently, I was asked, “Do think there is hope for the future?” An ambiguous term to throw around the dinner table, future, I pondered. The word had never bothered me before. The future had always seemed like a tangible object to me; I used to stand in my bathroom, staring straight into my own eyes. Thought by thought, I would construct the framework of my adulthood. Beginning with enticing ideas, I would comb through the images that filled my youthful mind. In such vivid etchings, I saw my mind begin to outline shapes on the previously blank cave walls of my skull. It hurts me to be sitting here behind a bright screen, stumped, at a loss of words. A sense of missing something washes over me, and I begin to feel such disappointment in myself.
I know that there is hope for the future, yet I am still treading in the same water as that little girl who spent hours mapping out the screenplay of her life. However, I realize that looking on myself with disdain is not going to further humanity. Instead, these negative thoughts that I constantly submerse myself in will overtake me and leave me frantically grabbing for a buoy of hope. I wonder why there is such darkness in the world that surrounds us, but if I continue to hold onto that buoy of hope, then I can and will remain afloat. Although no one can say with utter certainty that there is no reason to worry, there is also no one who knows how the years ahead of us will unfold. Will the blueprint of my dreams that I drafted in 1997, ever come to fruition?
Only through my own efforts may the building of my vocational plan begin, and only by letting go of that buoy will I allow hope to find me. I do not have an answer to how any of us arrived on earth, but I do say with confidence that there is a reason. The reason for my existence is to question and continue to question aspects of being alive. I know there is hope for the future, because no one has solved the equation of existence yet. So, together, we must press forward. The sun will rise again tomorrow, and I will always have that sketches of how I dreamed my life would be. Tucked behind the lobes of my brain, I can always find hope in the future, because I know my blueprint will be there when I am ready to commence construction.
Filled with a desire to do something that honestly matters, I realize my dream sounds so cliché. I do not mind that though, for I know that with a pencil and paper I will forever have a voice. I have always begged for people to listen to me. At age 5, I told my mom I was going to be a movie star. At age 10, I told my mom I wanted to end sadness. At 14, I wanted to end pain. At 16, I wanted a car, because I did not think a singular individual could change the world. I learned that is not true though. An individual can spark fire within the hearts of others. An individual can show other people hope for the future. With the power of God’s will, I can be everything I want to be, and I can accomplish all that God has created me to accomplish. With my pencil, my voice, and my creations, I hope to impact someone, somewhere. Using my artistic talents in the name of hope, I plan to forge a path towards peaceful progress.
I talk like a fool.
Keep the peace
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