Graduation

At the end of this road, I know I will be okay. I’ll be alright. One day, I will stare out at everything I have ever accumulated during this life and I will be grateful. Maybe I’ll have children, maybe I won’t. I wonder how many of my friends will still be there with me. Or maybe I will have made new friends. Anyways, I know I will be okay. 

But as I look at myself now, I wonder how I will get there. How will I ever be “okay”? Perhaps becoming a writer was not the smartest choice in order to pay off my student loans that my very own writing degree racked up. Writers are basically screwed. We fucked up, didn’t we? But without us, the world would lack depth. 

Imagine if your favorite movie didn’t exist. Or your favorite novel. Would you still understand your world the same way you do now? 

As I graduate into this world after 21 years of schooling, I find it difficult to balance my lofty artistic ideals with the grueling truth of adult life. One can not live without money. And art is not known to be a big money-maker. Suddenly, the romanticized idea of “starving artist” is shattered right in front of me. 

I want to starve.

Maybe being a “starving artist” doesn’t have to mean eating McDonald’s and Subway everyday (even those options are getting expensive these days). I want to starve and be hungry for inspiration. Now this type of starvation, I can survive. 

I don’t believe in divine forces. But I really hope that whoever is up there (or down below) will give me enough energy to continue to starve. Because it takes a lot. Between working a muggle job during the day and writing up magic at night, it’ll take everything I have in me.
But hey, I’ll be okay. You will too. One day, we’ll look at eachother. Whether through the page, the screen, or in person. I’ll be grateful that you have read my words and seen my art.