will of fire, January

The feel of pencil to paper, the mechanical cacophony of an analog camera, and the whirring of a VHS tape – sonorous analog alternatives remind not only that nothing compares to the old-fashioned way, but that change is inevitable. I contributed a healthy portion of my hours to digital photography and come with many a revelation my shorthand scribbles or my Microsoft document cannot take down. Yet still, I do not strive always and many an opportunity has passed me by while I sit slouched in my black hand-me-down office chair. Pundits I have not met but still feel have shared many similar sentiments, mine coming quite close, yet it seems the world’s changes have distracted what feels like an almost inherited will of fire.

My dearest mother shows more fire for her ambitions, as if fire and brimstone await otherwise, an example it would behoove one to appreciate. She embarked today on a mission to clear her test for an accreditation or acknowledgement – something or other to distinguish herself further from her peers. I understand her perseverance, the nature of her desires, the nurture of her family without exception, and her character, a care for her neighbor rivaled only by the parables themselves. I lament to share she did not achiever her desired result, though she put more time than I can admit I have towards any of my goals. Is it no wonder I do not prevail as desired? Isn’t it mysterious her wishes are not realized?

What do I seek, with almost more recorded days on a leisure activity than an active hunt of my sought-after treasures? Two thousand hours to an online game makes one adept at reading the environment for threats, but lethargy and complacency snuck under my guard. Admittedly, I started this journey in an adolescent manner to find friends, but really, to find myself in a city I moved to with the aim of social mobility. I take for granted that I came thus far with the drive of a foreigner’s wish to see better for her posterity; there was no chance I could ever go lightly, a blazing heart like mine own mother’s, a hunger to share with others my bounty, and a craving to prove my worth, not its weight in gold, but its potential unlimited. Nothing is out of reach, if I will it. As I see now, I willed for games to distract. I will now for sights to focus.