By 23

I turned 23 three months ago. I’m still the same crackpot that I was five, six years before. I haven’t changed much, save for the few things that I’ve learned in high school, college, and my-life-so-far. I still have a long way to go and I know that.

Ten years ago I would’ve thought that by 23, I’d be in some office building having corporate pow-wows with head honchos and fellow big shots. But I would be wrong. Instead, I’m sitting in front of a computer, blogging about how my 13-year-old dreams didn’t hit their target. And for that, I’m grateful. I no longer desire the corporate life. I no longer dream of a big office with a view. I no longer dream of black-on-black sports cars or elegant French dinners.

Instead, I wish for a happy-go-lucky lifestyle with a beat-up car that works, a dog, and a green backyard. I dream, endlessly, of Baja and the Caribbean, of white sand beaches, of the sea and sky, and strawberry margaritas. I dream of sailboats sitting by the horizon, and the most incredible sunrise and sunsets. I dream of a most elusive life, but most of all, I dream of peace within myself.

Right now one could describe myself as: 23, unemployed, and currently living with relatives. Nevertheless, I’d rather be described as: 23, loved, and still crazy enough to dream big.

“The only thing you have to be by the age of 23 is yourself.”
- Troy Dyer (played by Ethan Hawke), Reality Bites (1994)