How could I have ever expected to see my plans come to fruition? My ideas of creating and producing a variety show in Edmonton, of starting my own YouTube interview show, of finally finishing the last few chapters of that book I started, of starting to write that book I discussed with many people, of starting that discussion group, of writing the last few chapters of the book I started to write, of volunteering with the MS society, of developing a presentation to kids in Elementary School and High School about not taking the social pains too seriously and that life really begins after you finish, of starting my own podcast, of continuing to donate blood, of finding Aunt Doreen's new phone number and calling her instead of phoning the only numbers I have for her knowing that she's not there, of finishing my biology degree and finding a way around male-pattern-baldness, of finishing my sky diving lessons, of training in a martial art, of learning to speak Arabic again, of writing that script for a James Bond film, of getting my car tuned up that time in Calgary when I had the time to do so,of becoming a voice actor and making a great living there in that city.
Where and how far along was I and when did idealism meet reality and end in me coming to the conclusion that I couldn't do it or wouldn't do it or better yet, have not done it yet?
What is the point of coming up with these ideas if I don't put my plans into action? Should I breed depression upon myself for my lack of motivation? Should I blame a missed opportunity for the failures in my life? Should I plant the seeds of despair as I lament the things I could have done or should have done or have not done yet? Why did I let so many days pass by sleeping in, laying in bed depressed instead of getting up and out into the world and no longer be ashamed of facing the world because I felt so down?
It's true - I'm the only one who can make these things happen.
I'm the one with the ideas so vast and varied and complex and simple and arduous and rewarding and time consuming and ephemeral and fleeting and passing. Why can't I just stop one thought that comes to my mind that has a plan attached to it and act on it? Act on it in a meaningful and productive way instead of actually doing nothing about it - all the while time passes by, I get older, people come and go and leave and die and now the impetus becomes more realized but all I do is sit here and write.
