by jonnahzkennedy

At some point in your life, you will realize that you don’t want to do what you love. At some point in your life, you will realize that you are lost, that you feel like you have no purpose. It is not a mid-life crisis or a low point, it is a fact of life. There will be a point and time when you stand at the crossroads of your tragic time on the past road, and you can’t bear to look back, because you’ll be even more lost. Sometimes, your feet are going to be wary, you’re going to be worn and tired, and you’re gong to be ready to collapse.

Sometimes, you need to collapse to build back up again. 

A lot of you all reading this, if you’re actually reading this, know that I have had a short, short journey in writing. I began writing 6 years ago in the 4th grade when I first, actually ‘discovered’ writing. From the moment that I put pen to paper for the first time, I knew that it’s what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, to some degree at least. But, in those 6 years, many things have changed: I have grown up, matured, I know more than I did then (but I’m still an idiot), and most of all, I’ve simply changed. Some days I feel like I could write War and Peace, other days I feel like I’m worse than the worst book in the world (Twilight is better than my fiction now probably). Most of all, I have hit more than my fair share of low points. Such low points that, I often find myself at the crossroads. I’ll look to the left, and I’ll look to the right. I’ll look forward. I will consider. Where shall I go, where shall I go? 

This time, I really don’t know. 

Every other time, I just kept walking forward, but that’s because I felt like I could see the clear cut path, I felt like I knew that this mountain would turn into a valley at some point, or I knew that it was just going to be miles and miles of plains with no woods. But now, the path is obscure and foggy, and I don’t know how I’ll get through. I’m lost out here in the wild, and there’s nothing left in my pack. I feel like I’m done for. I think this is the time, for every writer must have one I suppose, where you must truly take a break. I’ve taken ‘breaks’ before, but I always returned shortly after. But, now, I truly need to take a break. 

My grammar is horrendous, I have no ideas, and I’m at a loss for words for the first time in my life. I don’t know how I’ve made it this far, but I think that it may be time to stop. I’m taking a break. An intermission between acts. I need a vacation from the thing that has long been my vacation. I encourage everyone to take a break, a vacation, every now and then, maybe you’ll be more sure of yourself than I am.