Fear strikes me each time I attempt to come back to a familiar routine of what I knew best. Of what I used to know best. Possibly it has just been far too long for me to start this again. Why not recede into a more comfortable position that I have become accustomed to. Who says I can’t? The new generation that sweeps the world by storm says I can’t. Young, fresh-faced twenty-somethings, oozing bloated self-esteems with Gucci handbags. And yet, here I am still fresh-faced at a measly (only recent) twenty-three with enough fear for the both of us. Even if I am in the background, peering in – I am part of that generation. 2017 could be my year and as a matter of a fact, it will. I do not want to be aware of time passing without some sort of active progression being made. The fog will be clearer. I will vow to myself that the impossible reach for perfection can no longer cripple me with each sentence finished with a “maybe you’ll get it right this time.”
And here’s hoping I will.