Past Self: Meet Future Self

So, someone I know suggested that I write about what I think my Facebook status will be in the year 2018 for my next blog post. I thought it would be an interesting idea, so here it is:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Yes, it is blank–blank as the mind of a Freshman midway through their first prelim exam. I sincerely hope that in the next 5 years I will be able to escape the never-ending distraction that is Facebook and to do other things with my life. Don’t get me wrong; Facebook is a great tool for me to keep up with the lives of my more distant family and friends, or to advertise events I’m hosting to large groups of people I know.  However, I really hope that some other platform comes along that is more useful and less spam-ridden, and I hope even even more that I’ll be too busy doing awesome things in my actual life to be actively posting on Facebook. It’s a pipe dream. But it’s my pipe dream.

“Not fair,” you say? “What a cope out,” you accuse? Well, fine. I’ll write something else.

Here are the top 3 things I really hope will be my Facebook status in 2018 (versus what they probably will be):

1. Career

What My Dreams Tell Me Will Happen


What Economic Statistics Tell Me Will Happen

Because wishful thinking doesn’t get you an interview…or so Santa told me…


2. Love

What My Boyfriend and I Are Currently Hoping For


What Our Level of Maturity Suggests Will Happen

Because, whether or not are relationship stays on the smooth and happy course it is now on, we’ll still be in the middle of our story. Not the end. That means that instead of a “happily ever after” post, I’m probably going to get something much less poignant but as meaningful.

And finally…

3. New Years’ Resolution


Because let’s face it. I’m just as selfish and self-serving as the next human being, and it’s going to take much more than a couple of years to wipe away all the biases I have for certain people. Just be glad if I’m able to stick to that resolution. My track record so far hasn’t been too good; check back in a few months and see if I can even remember that post.

So, there it is in all its glory: my lazy attempt at forecasting my future. If I seemed ambivalent about my future, it’s because I am in a way. It’s not that I don’t care about what happens to me; I care about it just as much as anyone else. However, I’m not going to spend all my time just thinking about what might happen. I’m going to spend my time getting what I want to happen done.

So, to myself–but 5 years into the future–do you care at all about what my dreams were when we were in college versus what your dreams are now that you’ve seen more of the world, experienced more of life, and can better design your goals to what we truly desire?Will you care at all about what you may have forgotten in your pursuit of true happiness?


The Things I Wish I Wrote

This Fall semester, I’ve been working very hard to bring my new student arts organization–The Rosalba Creations Group (RCG)–to campus, and I’ve been very excited by the numerous events and projects we plan on having this upcoming year. In organizing events like The Office of Dead LettersThe Whispering Trees Project, and our upcoming publication release, I’ve started to think about the act of writing and how I wish I had taken more time to write when I was younger.

Don’t get me wrong; I used to write a lot in elementary and high school. English assignments that were assigned at 3-4 pages easily became 15 pages by the end of a weekend. Getting me to cut out some of my words for the sake of conciseness what not a challenge to be taken lightly for anyone. However, most of the writing I did do were just short pieces, mandated by my professors, of which I then deposited in a nearby recycling bin almost immediately after having received my grade. With only a few exceptions, most of the stories I wrote during that time were just typical homework assignments of little value to me, and many of the story ideas which I did have and loved never actually came from thought to pen to paper. I kept telling myself that I didn’t have the time to write any more than I already did for academics. As result, I have a bunch of journals filled with chicken-scratch, describing ideas for stories that are no longer familiar to me and have little chance of being read by a proper audience.

I think that a lot of people in this world fancy themselves as writers. I’m not sure if I should call myself a writer just yet. Or maybe it’s that I’m hesitant to call myself a good writer or a successful writer. Lots of people write; that doesn’t mean they’re any good. And even though there are many ways you can define success  for a writer, I think that being prolific in your work and sharing your work with others are two of the necessary steps for getting there. I didn’t have that when I was younger. I didn’t put the time into my writing like I probably should have, and I hardly ever shared my ideas for fear of criticism or as a consequence of laziness. For those reasons, I don’t think I’ve been a successful writer as of yet.

However, one of the benefits of going to a school like Cornell University is that you can connect with a community of like-minded and supportive people. The friends I have now continuously remind me of the opportunities I have presently to make use of my writing. Although I’ve always had people pushing me to write more, I now have people who are also showing me how I can make that writing public. I also people who are keeping track of me, making sure that I write and that I don’t fall back into the bad habits of my youth when I wrote less often and less freely. It’s a very encouraging atmosphere.

As result, I’ve become much more confident in my writing and have worked harder to write the things I never wrote before. Now, through RCG, some of my writing will even be featured in public events, publications, and exhibitions. Furthermore, I am encouraging other writers to get involved and make something out of their ideas as well.

There are so many stories I wish I had written and have now long forgotten, but I don’t plan on repeating that regret anymore.