I am 35 years old today. Looking back – and forward – I can summary my life in one word: books. I’ve spent most of it engrossed in books, books and more books, and I’ll probably spent the rest of it in them. A world of my own, as Alice in Wonderland once was. Is it the curse of the name? I do not know.
I clearly remember wanting to be a writer from the age of 7 or 8, when I filled a whole notebook I had with poems. Unfortunately, I do not know where said – or sad (?) – notebook is… It is probably hidden in some old box gathering dust and mold. And I cannot help comparing it to my dreams of becoming a writer… I had dreams and songs to sing, that unfortunately were postponed and thrown aside by many reasons, mostly by my own troubled mind as I grew up. They’ve never been forgotten, though. They’ve always remained here.
2015 has been the year I’ve decided to open that moldy box of dreams and confront many of my fears. Thus this blog was born. A means to a winding road. As I figure out my mind and troubles, a book is slowly being written. I have started my Imaginary Project precisely to help me unleash my imagination, and so far it has been working. It is a romance between King Arthur and Lancelot. I have no idea if it will ever be read or liked. All I know is I am committed to seeing it through the end.
I do not know where my life will lead me, or the paths I will find myself walking on. I do know I want to make this happen for me.
Today I have finished the landscape planning of my imaginary world, and I am proud of my crappy doodles. Because if there is something I have learnt in these 35 years is that I need to start being more proud of myself and my accomplishments even if they are far and few. Learning to live with yourself and loving yourself, that is what life has been all about. And it does say something that I have finished my landscape today, that at least I haven’t given up yet.