What If

Someone once told me that inspiration comes from life experiences, and that has rung true. As I grow up I realize that my world is on the verge of a total expansion that both intimidates and excites me. As I venture onto the campuses of colleges I may be on in the next few months, as I'm thrown into situations by chance, as the words of Sylvia Plath and J.D Salinger become the inspiration for my own novel, as I lose people to the unexpectedness of death, the world becomes increasingly real. And before I know it, my mind never stops as I form opinions of things I've never thought about. My poetry is no longer about singular occurrences of heart break, but breaking through the boundaries of  the ideas I took for granted and now meet with skepticism. My aspirations for a higher education are no longer for the acquisition of material and a skewed definition of success, but for the belief that knowledge is power and ignorance never has been and never will be bliss. My plan is no longer written in permanent marker, or engraved in concrete, but subject to change.

 Everything is changing; my writing, my taste in music, what inspires me, visions of my  future that used to be so clear. 

But what if change is exactly what's supposed to happen?

What if we never fully find ourselves, or exactly what we want to do for the rest of our lives? What if we're meant to change our minds constantly, to continuously broaden our horizons, redefine the words we take for granted, disregard the labels and social hierarchies we obsess over? What if our minds are never supposed to stop running? What if we stopped blindly partaking in party politics and the social structures that say living in the projects is equivalent to living in poverty and marriage is between only a man and a woman?

The fabric of my entire world seems to be continuously changing, and even though it terrifies me, I feel myself yearning for it.