In A Perfect World

In a perfect world, I would live in a little cottage, writing novels, sipping kombucha, and selling paintings. Instead, I’m stowed away in my parent’s backroom, pouring coffee and busing tables for minimum wage, and wondering if it will ever get better?

In a perfect world, chasing passion would be a reality rather than some foolish dream. After all, I’m an adult now, I need to wake up and get a ‘real job’, right? That’s what everyone is telling me. How I’m wasting my life for not going to college right now. I’m being unrealistic.

Yet, I wake up each morning and find myself surrounded by people who have given up on their dreams, their passions, and their individuality. I have watched artists set down their pencils only to become cashiers and nurses. And writers, who became cooks and teachers, too busy and tired to work on their latest novel idea. After all, making good money and having a family is more important than being happy. That’s what my father has been preaching these last few months. It makes me feel hopeless and depressed that so many people live this way.

Even at a young age, I have harbored this love of art and writing. As a preteen I’d spend hours plugging away at a keyboard, creating fantasy worlds full of vampires, werewolves, and demons. Late summer nights, spent weaving together rhymes, creating hundreds of poems. Weekends sat at my kitchen counter painting dark landscapes and characters. I would often go to school tired, often covered in graphite and paint.

It’s the only place I feel like I belong, with a pencil, a brush, a book… something in my hand. When my anxiety makes it hard to think or breathe, it’s the only thing that calms me. It’s what makes me feel like me. Creating is more than a passion; it’s what makes life bearable.

Over the last two months, I have suffered from tendonitis, which rendered my right hand nearly unusable. I felt… lost. What is the purpose of waking up, going to work a dead-end job, and just going back to sleep? When you die, what will you leave behind? It just feels wrong to me. To give up art would be like selling off a piece of myself.

Creating is what allows me to connect, to ground, and calm myself. It’s the self-expression that makes me feel ‘normal’. As if I fit in, so to speak. It is the beacon that bobs and glows in the vast dark sea. Creating gives me direction and lures me back to shore. It is what brings me true happiness.

My passion is to create, and my dream is to connect and inspire.

In a perfect world, I would spend my days writing stories and articles. Creating commissions rather than drawings that lay in hidden sketchbooks. I would raise enough money to make a quaint website, something with a nice ambiance, the sound of rain, and distant thunder, something comfortable. I’d share stories, legends, the lore of creatures, and events that have long fascinated me. I’d be able to deep dive into what makes me happy and use that to connect and entertain others. It’d be the blog I’ve always wanted. Perhaps it would even give me the freedom to write the comics and novels I have so desired to complete.

Though I wouldn’t expect to get rich off of anything I make. Nor would I expect to have much of a following. I need something to save me from another dead-end job. Something to show passion doesn’t have to die to be successful. I’d be able to connect with people with interests like me and bring them together. I want to show others anyone can make use of their passion. They don’t have to sell what they love to be successful. After all, if someone as flawed, as weird, and as hopeless as I can do something great, why can’t they?

See, in a perfect world, I could do this without hesitation. I’d publish the novel I never had time to write. I would make art that brings other’s happiness. My dream blog would be up on the internet. I would prove everyone wrong. I would help others do the same.

Sadly, this is not a perfect world. There is no guarantee a simple blog, a story, or a drawing would be enough to live on this passion-fueled fever dream. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.

Perhaps, I’m making a mistake, but I do not hesitate to cast off my life jacket, even if it means I may drown. I will not give up. I can’t afford to give up. Creating is my life, my oxygen supply, my therapy. So even if this world is not perfect, I will fight until my passion and my dreams can become something more.

____________________________________________________

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to leave a heart, I really appreciate it.

If you'd like more content like this, or just want to vibe feel free to follow me on twitter @Emilia_the_Bat. I give regular updates when I post on vocal and share some of my art from time to time. Hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! And remember, don't let anyone or anything stop you from following your dreams! :)

~Emilia