One cop out after the next

It's so easy.
It's so easy to lose hope when you have been trying so hard to reach just one of your goals.
And keeping faith is so hard.
I've compromised so much lately just to ensure a better chance for myself.
Or maybe I've compromised because I'm scared of making a decision for myself instead of having it made for me.
If I had been offered a job somewhere, anywhere, I'd go there.
But I haven't, and so it's hard to go anywhere.
And so I've come home.
And it's not that I don't like it here.
But this is not where I want to be.
Of all my choices, I've chosen the one that is the safest and the least fulfilling.

This is not who I wanted to be.
I want to be brave, fearless, adventuresome.
No more of this playing it safe.

If I don't have a job by the summertime, I'm doing one or more of the following things (I'm telling you now because I have to write it down somewhere or it will never be real, it will never happen. It will be as though I never thought it, at all):
1. Making a huge road trip to the west
2. Moving to New York City
3. Moving to Chicago
4. Making plans to go back to school

So, in the mean time, my plan is to make as much money as possible. I'm stuck here until I save money, anyway. But while I'm here I need to make a point to do things that make me feel happy. Coming back home has a way of making me dull, smothering me. It's like I'm 15 again, looking for myself and completely unaware of my wants, likes, abilities, passions.
I don't want to just survive. I don't want to stay afloat. I don't want any of that barely living but still living bullshit. I want to live so hard that I could die tomorrow.

So, I'm welcoming change in to my life. And tomorrow I'm going looking for an adventure. My mother would ask me, "What is it that scares you the most? Find it and do it." I'll have to think on that one.

I hope I wake up before noon tomorrow.

Do we ever really become who we want(ed) to be?