Clovers & Roses

Things have been pretty hard on me once again. I know in my previous update I said I was recovering from everything but it seems life has other plans for me. It's almost as if each time I reach the point where I am happy and stable with everything in life, the Universe takes one look at me and thinks "No, this is not right" and starts throwing me another obstacle to deal with. 

Life is supposed to be this constant battle between the good and the bad right? The saying goes "we fight through the bad days to make it to the good days" or something along that line and meaning. What if you lose the strength to keep going after taking hit after hit? I used to be this unrelenting force of nature when it came to fighting my battles. Now? I'm like a worn out shield, battered and bruised from years of overuse in numerous wars and battles. Sure each bruise and scar reminds me of every battle I've won but the shield that I have is cracking at the edges with each blow that I take in this new battle I face. I guess what I am trying to say is I've lost that warrior spirit in me. I don't know what happened to it, where it disappeared to. Frankly speaking, I don't know if I want to look for it and want it back.

I am having an extension of holidays so to speak and I've been filling up my time with what I love to do most during my free time: reading. I raided the library and borrowed stacks of books to immerse myself in. I especially love it when the book that I read takes me away, takes my mind away. I read with an imaginative mind. I picture everything I read down to the smallest detail so it plays out like a movie in my mind as I read. It's very easy to lose myself in the words of authors and forget completely about my own troubles. 

Immersing myself in books has made me doubt some of my choices. One of them being my current course. I have always been in the science stream and I love studying science. I like knowing facts on the human body, properties of different molecules and the possible interaction between both. I always wanted to be in the medical world. But when things fail, doubts form in it's place. 

After reading so much and enjoying it, I wondered if I should have listened when my mum suggested taking up a degree in language or writing even. She made this suggestion because I love to read and write. I started reading before I even entered kindergarten. Of course back then, the reading I did made no sense to me at all. My mum told me I grabbed one of my sister's books and just started reading on my own. She enrolled me in kindergarten immediately after that. 

As for the writing, I have been writing journals since before I can remember. I used to keep so many empty journals at hand because I always wrote everything down in there. Listing out what happened and how I feel and what I wish could happen instead of what did. Writing gave me a sense of calmness after furiously attacking the pages with my pen for hours. 

There were times that writing failed me. I would flip to a fresh page in my journal and with my pen held poised over the page, my mind drew up a blank. It happened many times and soon I gave up write altogether. At least until blogging started for me. 

I never once dreamed of being a writer because I lacked the creativity that is required when it comes to writing fictional stories. I tried writing stories once and I gave up after a chapter because it sounded boring to me after I re-read it multiple times. Becoming a writer is not as easy as it sounds and it isn't the same as writing journals. Writers need to be inspired I think. Inspired and creative. 

But somehow at this very moment I am wondering if I should have pursued a degree in language and writing. Would I have enjoyed it? Would I thrive at it? Would I succeed? 

What if your hand was my hand?

Could they hold on or let go?