Every once in a while, my slate is wiped completely clean. I have this luxury, if you can call it that, of having a blank sheet of paper on which I get to create where I want to take my life.
When it doesn’t terrify the crap out of you, it can be fun.
I was handed a blank sheet before I came to Ghana. I chose Africa, of course, and the rest of it pretty much fell into place on its own (with a few troubles here and there).
Now I’ve got me a blank sheet once again. I haven’t figured out where I want to go, what I want to do, or who I want to do it with.
The future looks a bit scary. I think I’ll write in pencil this time.