I am born with a compass. Still, I’m frustrated as everyone.

I always knew what I wanted.

In elementary, I badly wanted to have a canvas. I wanted to paint, paint and paint. My ultimate wish was to have a complete set of painting materials. I’d be in heaven, I thought.

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In high school, with a carefree and faithful spirit, I wanted to build a fashion empire in my country (Cringes at the thought).

Life blew things and I found the very center of my life: I want to write books that will forever be in peoples’ bookshelves.

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I never ever felt living without a target and so, I walked through life’s unpredictable trails. It’s always a blessing to have a goal and to be sure of it but then, just like everyone,

I AM FRUSTRATED.

How can someone so sure of what she aspires be feeling behind everyone, doubting when days get tough, crying when she feels trapped and stuck where she is?

How can someone who’s found her life purpose be miserable in prayer, sometimes even suddenly asking God the words: “Are You really there?”

How can someone who always believed in her dreams stay faithful to her future but with madness and cold arms towards her present?

How in the world can I be frustrated if I can see where I’m heading: a place where I know I’ll find myself embraced by what I’ve been dreaming of these many, many days?

Surely, He Who’s up there knows how to be fair. I know where I want to be — I’m sure of it — yet I’m frustrated; some of my friends know they still have to figure it out and that makes them frustrated. We’re all walking through muddy streets. The streets are of different names but are similarly dirty and dim. We’re all certain one minute then messed up again the next hour. We try things out, see if they’ll work out and find ourselves regretting our very decisions. We arrive to places which we thought we carved for ourselves then despise having to wake up every morning to be there. There were times when it felt so good we never wanted to leave and then higher mountains appear as the clouds make them all visible to our eyes, those eyes that never saw them before and heck, we want to be there, to reach higher mountains. Such unpredictable trails we say, yet we ourselves, yes we are all unpredictable with what we want: ever-changing preferences, unsatisfied thirsts, wandering sights. Such lonely beings we all are at times.

Don’t fear such days, dear, if you go hungry again: Hungry for the better.

Be happy because right now, you are frustrated: THE SKIES ARE ONLY TELLING YOU, IT’S TIME. Another season has ended; a new one has come.

And funny how ALL OF US are altogether figuring out how to get out of here — where we currently and exactly are, sometimes feeling that we were given the shortest end of the stick, that life is unfair — but still fighting

because no one, NO ONE wants to stay here.

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And like you, my dear, I’m going to head forward.

*photos are not mine

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