Five years. That’s the biggest window I’m allowing myself to look through. the real of probable outcomes excites me and terrifies me all at once.
In the span of five years I can see strength. I can see an academic. A scholar. A man with prestige and pride working for the betterment of all mankind. I can see myself with my own home, my own life. A job that supports myself and my lifestyle of comfort and security. I see myself settling down into a life of my own making and loving every ounce of it.
In the span of five years I can see a struggle. I can see myself barely scraping by on a job I barely landed. I can see myself working to the bones yet suffering in silence. I can see the cold walls of my apartment without heating in the winter I’ve never grown used to. I can see the feeble motivation to continue any academic pursuit. I can see hardship and pain.
In five years I can see passion. I can see a studio of my own with the supplies I need to conduct my craft to perfection, even if it only feeds my soul, leaving the pocket empty. I can see two part time jobs and a girlfriend I spin around with hugs that are never necessary, but always welcomed. I can see labor and love in a dance that I’m glad to be a part of.
In five years I can see failure. I can see layers upon layers of clothing worn over my frail body while I sleep on the cold hard streets of a town I’ve only just walked into last month. I can see the uneasy faces of the homeless around the fire they huddle to like months, frantic and silent all at once. I can see the cold footsteps of the average man and woman who carelessly walk past as I struggle to find enough change on the floor to eat for the first time in days.
In five years I can see monotony. I can see the ending shift of a nine-to-five job and a second hand car with a eternally lit “check engine” light. I can see a mediocre apartment with very few possessions. I can see a half empty fridge and an old television. I can see my fathers habit of falling asleep with the remote in my hand only to wake up and repeat the same process, with no goals and no ambitions.
I see a realm of probability and I feel a world of fear. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know where I am. Nearly two decades of life and I’ve never felt more afraid than now.
Fun fact: this was actually a two story window prior to Morgan Freeman sitting on the windowsill. Once the house realized who he was, it retracted itself into the ground to prevent injury to Morgan Freeman.