On this morning, dark clouds filled with precipitation spray the Bay Area with billions, maybe trillions of tiny droplets.
Rain drops pitter-patter on the windshield of my car, a sound reminiscent of a drummer hitting a snare drum.
I’m driving north toward San Francisco—following a sea of red break lights up the 101. Stop, go, honk—traffic brings out the absolute worst in people, and I’m not feeling so good at the moment.
I need to escape. I need to break free from the stronghold of the nine-to-five schedule—wake-up, work, go home, sleep, repeat. Today, I want to be free—not trapped by any sort of robotic routine. I just want to wander around the city, and not think, not even once, about the plethora of responsibilities that I am committed to. I often day-dream about having enough resources to travel the world with Lila and Ly—never concerned about money, just concerned about how many amazing experiences can be created in a 24 hour window. I want to be free of the invisible shackles of this industrialized society.
I want purpose—and that purpose doesn’t reside in a cubicle. Is purpose an illusion?
They say that those who consistently work hard and do the right thing will be rewarded. Can that be true? Yes—but I know a lot of people who worked their fingers to the bone, and some of them may disagree.
Hope is what keeps me going—keeps the dreams alive. I must continuously remind myself to never lose hope…ever.