Five Years From Now

I don’t know what my future will be because there’s still the present that I have to live in order to build my future, but who in this world does not think of the future, even I do. I am as curious as anybody else what my future will be and there are times that I think that maybe I’ll be a bum, knocking on doors and asking for a penny or something and sometimes I think that I’ll be what I dream of, but I can’t tell if that will happen.

I always see myself as in front of the computer, writing something extraordinary and something out of experience with a cup of coffee beside my computer and piles of manuscript that still need some polishing and lots of sticky note posted in my board. I will have eye bags and I will look like a zombie. I don’t have a family yet, because I am so dedicated with what I am doing and I think a family will just intervene with my work. There will be deadlines that I have to meet and I’m starting to get crazy because I don’t know what else to do, but after a few months I will finish the book I am writing and I will see it in one of the stands in books stores around the globe with my name on it. My success will be my mom’s success too, for she’s my greatest fan. Since my book has been published I will travel the world and a lot of people will know me and will ask for my author graph and my life will just go on and on, but I will soon get tired of it, so I will look for something new. I will enroll myself in an arts class and I will make artworks that only I will appreciate because my friends do not fancy such work of art. I will build a gallery, but only few people will come and soon I will forget my dream to become a painter. I will be depress and I will be admitted to an institution and I will think that everyone outside the institution is crazy, but it will not be for long, because I will be fine soon and I will be back with the things I used to do, but the people around me will never stop calling me crazy.

That’s how I see myself five years from now and it sounds crazy, maybe sooner or later I’ll be admitted in an asylum for writing this stuff, but who can tell what will my future be?

Happy New Year!