It's almost 1 am; I am wide awake yet doing nothing. I stare at the blank canvas in front of me not knowing what to paint nor where to begin.
Art has always been my escape from reality.
I may not be as amazing as the other artist; my works may not be as breath taking-ly realistic as others; I may hate it sometimes because of the constant feeling of not being good enough
but when my life sucks big time, when I feel alone and have nowhere to run, it is art that always have my back.
As if it has arms that are always spread wide open waiting for me to come back, and I do. I always do, and it gives me the warmest embrace every time.
Albeit there will be times like this, where I feel. . . lost . . . and even art can’t save me.
“You're wasting money buying stuff for something you're not even good at.”
“What will you get doing those stupid things, huh?”
And at times like this, voices inside my head are the loudest.
Too loud that I'd be willing to do anything just to shut them out 'cause if I don't, they will drown me. It will be hard to start again after that.
Life has always been unfair, isn't it? I always ask myself, "Why am I not good enough at the things that I love?" "How can I say that something is my passion if I'm barely good at it?
“Why can't I be just like them?"
There are a lot of things that I want to do with my life. Things that I actually love; things that will make me feel as if I'm really living my best life.
But what's stopping me from doing those things?
I want to explore different places; witness thousands of sceneries, and paint all of them. I want to leave this city and go in an unfamiliar place.
I want to live in an island; to have a house surrounded by palm trees and the sea.
I want to have my own shop where I can sell my artworks, my ceramics, and the things that I made; the things where I put my heart and soul at, where parts of me are sealed in.
I want to meet new people. I want to inspire people. I want to do things that will make me proud of myself.
"Can you make it on your own?"
"What if you take the leap and ended up falling instead of flying."
"Your passion is not something you can be proud of."
I am scared.
What if the voices inside of me are right?
What if it wasn't for me?
What if I can't make it?
What if I'm not meant to succeed? That I am meant to be just like this, a mediocre on the things that I love.
But how will I know if I'm not even gonna try.
Maybe in the right time.
When will be the right time?
When I'm ready?
When will I ever be ready?
I read something that goes something like this, "If you wait until you're ready, you'll be waiting for the rest of your life."
I roam my eyes across the room. My artworks are either hanging or reclining on the wall. My table are lined with jars containing pens, pencils, and paint brushes.
There are ceramic designs and sketches sticked on the wall just above my table. Plants are also very visible in my room. Some of my clothes are on the floor and some are hanged at my door.
My balcony’s door is open; my curtain is dancing along with the cold breeze.
I stood up and walk towards it.
Bright lights from the busy city are gleaming. The cold wind, the lights, the people, the noises. I look up at the sky. The dark sky, the moon and the stars. It looks magical from here.
But I know it won’t be as magical as it is from where I want to be.
I took my backpack that’s lying beside my bed. I opened my closet and gather all the clothes that I’ll be needing. I also fill the only hand bag that I owned with my art materials and some of the artworks that love. Those that will only fit in the bag.
I stopped for a moment; realizing that I can’t bring everything in my room. My arts, my plants. . .
. . .my whole life is in this room.
But the life that I had in here wasn’t the best. In this room, all I ever did is to survive.
Now, I’m heading towards something beautiful. Something that I’ve always been dreaming of.
I’m risking everything. Letting go of a lot of things. I know this is a sudden decision, I don’t even know how will I tell my family about this.
All I know is that if I don’t do it right now, I’ll never able to do it.
I set aside every thoughts and fear. All the hesitation and doubts; the voices. All I have is now.
I changed into jeans and long sleeves. I put on my jacket and my backpack. Gripped on my hand bag and head towards the door.
There’s no turning back.