Reading Speedboat has been the opening of a door I didn’t know existed. And when I opened that door, there was a world of observation beyond. It also changed my view of novel writing, and it will be a reference that I will come back to and say, you see, this form also works. Who would have thought?
But this is a space where ideas and experiences and emotions and observations, and even a reportage or an aphorism, have no dividing line. And it’s good that sometimes someone who is already published and known tells you something that you never thought would get through publication did, and here you are, seeing a lot of possibilities in front of you. And I think I shifted my perspective. The way I hear people and my tendency towards melodrama changed for good, changed with so much awareness. But it changed in a way that I can’t put my finger on, the when and how, but I know that it did. And I think that throughout the last year, in the middle of life sometimes throwing its stones and shit at me, I managed to laugh. And those laughs were so deeply true to my heart, because I sort of realized that life can be so absurd and funny. And I remember someone saying, oh my God, I forgot his name, but this comedian said that everything is funny eventually. And it’s true, because I had these awful moments that I thought I would never be able to look at and smile at, but there I was, a day after or a week after, finding myself just having a little good laugh. And then I learned to be more gentle with myself, even though I’m still not there yet.
I’m writing this because I’m panicking while I’m turning 29. So I’m officially no longer, or soon will no longer be, a twenty-something girl anymore, and I thought my twenties would be the best decade of my life. But honestly, my twenties were brutal. So much has happened for me and to me and around me, on a micro scale and a macro scale, but the taste of it is heavy. So I’m both excited to say goodbye to my twenties, and yet I feel like I owe something to my twenties that I haven’t done yet. So that is the point that gives me the shiver.
And that is finishing my novel.
So as I turn 29, I really wish this year to be the year when I get closer to my dream of becoming a novelist, of finishing my manuscript, and of reaching the point where I can finally reach out and find the right agent for it. And I think once I’m done with that, I will be fine. I can let my twenties finish. Also, recently my heart was squeezed in cold hands when I didn’t get my citizenship, and I couldn’t reach all those little kudos that I wanted to handpick for myself. But maybe I’m doing it the other way around. Most people choose a very straight line from education to job to relationship to promotion and all those things. Then they have a moment of “fuck, where did I do it wrong? Who am I? Where is my life taking me? Who have I become?”
But I have been exploring all those things now. I spend a great amount of time understanding myself, growing, reading, seeing, thinking, becoming. And of course, along that line, I got a lot of rejection, mostly rejections. I felt like I’m not good for anything. The jobs I applied for said no. The internships I wanted to get into said, well, no, except for the brief time I worked in an art gallery. And I keep thinking that maybe those are not really my path, and my path right now is finding my way through my story, finishing my manuscript, and then seeing what happens.
And one thing to finish off this journal entry with is how much happier I am with myself. I’m truly happy when I’m just me. Probably I haven’t found a way to coexist yet, or I haven’t found that person yet, neither in my friendships nor in my love ships. The thing is, I genuinely enjoy being in the company of myself, spending time with myself, doing things alone. And this is the point where I tell myself, hey, don’t worry. Things are going to work out for you. Just trust your vision and focus one step ahead of you, and you can do it.
You’re going to finish this goddamn manuscript, and you will be in awe of the outcome.