Brianna: (thinking to herself as she mouses around Facebook playing some more) I'm sure it's a common name, right? Couldn't possibly be that one kid from theatre...
(Brianna types the artist's name into Google and realizes she spelled the name wrong. Correcting her mistake, Brianna finds the artist's official page and goes over to the biography information which has nothing on his high school days. Cross referencing information via Facebook and creeping through a couple pictures, Brianna realizes that this is indeed the same person she went to high school with.)
Brianna: (a multitude of thoughts run through Brianna's head, very few of them coherent) I KNOW HIM!
Or "knew." Again, tenses are hard. So I looked through the artist's official page and scrolled through the drawings that he had done. I don't know anything about art or comics outside of observing thoughtfully to myself every now and again, "Hm, that's very pretty." Or "Hm, that looks like fun." So I can't really pass judgement, but suffice it to say that he's got a lot of material, he's created a book of sorts (published, self-published, it's all the same in Brianna's mind right now), and he's actually doing what he's wanted to do. Studied illustration, and look at that. He's illustrating.
So I'm sitting here on the floor of my bedroom in my parents' house and my childhood home, thinking a million things at once, but all centering around: someone did it. Someone made it.
And that just means that there might be a chance after all.
Maybe I really an write something and put it out there into the world to read. Maybe someone actually will read something I've written and think, "Hm, that's very pretty" or "Hm, that looks like fun." Maybe I really can make some sort of difference that has someone saying, "I knew her in high school!" Maybe I really can do something worthwhile, something inspiring. Maybe I don't really have to sit around in a cubicle and proofread other people's memos. Maybe I really can do it. Maybe I really can make it. Maybe I really can end up doing something that I love, whatever that is.
As I'm sitting here cross-legged and typing on a computer that's resting on a milk crate, I'm basking in the possible. There really is a world full of possibilities out there and all I have to do is map them out. Tonight I'm not worrying about how I'm going to get there, I'm merely reveling in the realization that there is a "possible." And that possible can be mine, if I want it.
"Victory is always possible for the person who refuses to stop fighting."
- Napoleon Hill
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