There’s an age where you can’t dream anymore. The age where people start telling you to get a job, that you should’ve figured out what you wanted already, that you should’ve already been building what you wanted from before and not now.
Those assurances where people tell you, “You have time,” they’re lies. You don’t have time. You can use as much time as you want, but you don’t really have time. Because that time will come up when you’re with someone, and your time goes to that person. Then you’re thinking about marriage and a wedding, and having kids, and having a life for your kids too. So the time that you thought you had because everyone tells you that you have time, ends up not being your time at all. The time you spend working ends up going towards your debt, from college or from useless things. You’ve never had time. They’re all lying to you because they don’t know what else to tell you.
Those encouragements are lies too. “Good job,” “Keep up the good work,” means nothing. It’s just there to boost up your self esteem if you have none, but don’t rely on it too much because you’ll plateau and get stuck into thinking you’re really okay.
You’ll feel outcasted when everyone else around you has finished their masters degree and has almost everything in their life figured out, or at least the details of their life that you haven’t figured out yet. The job, the marriage, the kids. Even without the marriage and kids, they don’t live at home with their parents. Even if you have a job, a server job, that pays your debt and pays for the things in your life that you need, you’re still a servant to the food industry while they’re in an office wearing suits and skirts.
Because one day, they’ll stop saying all those positive things, and tell you to get serious about yourself. That you’re dreaming too much, and that you don’t have time anymore, and that you’re not working hard enough, and compare you to so and so and how they have everything together while you don’t.
That these little things that you’ve tried to grab and build on top of each other means nothing if you’re not getting any kind of money for it.
It also doesn’t matter how hard you work. Or how good your intentions are. Until you have something tangible to talk about, it doesn’t mean anything.
You’ll never know how much you love a thing until you’re willing to work for free for it, but unfortunately, you can’t live off of free things, and society will use you for your free work and tear you down at the same time, and toss you aside and find another sucker who is so filled with their own dreams who doesn’t know any better. All while scorning you for not keeping up with the Joneses.
I can jump off ship and drown, and be bloated with the cold water to only be satisfied that at least people will think I’m not dreaming anymore. That I’m willing to float alongside everyone else and be normal.
Nancy Yeang 