The turning point

The end of Freshman year of high school was a time, looking back on it, when I had absolutely no idea what the fuck I was doing. I had no goals, I had no drive to be anything, no desire to think more than an hour ahead in my life.

 Those few months, starting from my birthday four years ago, when I was a a track meet all day, utterly dissatisfied with the state of my existence, was the beginning of something new. In hindsight, I credit that horrible day as being the turning point. As my birthday comes closer, I've started to remember - vividly - what my life was like at that point and where I've been.

Subconsciously, I decided something would change. I would live my life with a sense of direction, to do what I wanted, to be a doer and a shaker and a mover and someone of importance among those around me and in the world. So here I am, now at the peak (going through an existential crisis, of course, that's why I'm writing), ready to take a new direction. And I'm aware of it. I'm more than conscious of where I'm gonna steer myself.

My nineteenth birthday is coming up and I'm in need of something more. Four years later. Where do I want to be on my twenty-third? What do I value now, in what little adult wisdom I have? What have I learned?

For about a month or so I've been throwing around the idea of putting my ideas and goals on paper and making a life objective. I've now found a trade and career that I'm satisfied with. I've taken stock of what I value and I think I can picture the ideal person that I want to be. The timing is right. I'm turning the corner and seeing the possibilities ahead. Of course, my goals and objective won't be permanent- just penciled, as a provision for luck and fate and to give myself room to grow.

Life's pilgrimage has gained momentum, so here's to taking a fortune.