The meaning of a turned back and a nod (journal entry)

My mom, as I've seen is not like a typical mother. My dad, in his own way, is a different father.
I want to do something great someday. From here comes only a space between intention and when, and a series of what and how. If there is a redeeming factor, it is that I have never asked myself why. It wasn't my first choice, and the desire only occurred to me later on but when it did, the entirety of me did not reject it. It's as if it has been part of a plan I was just beginning to realize. And it was time for me to stop resisting and go with the flow.

A lot of times I have wondered, not of the why or when, but of the what and how. If the monument I am building has a sturdy foundation, if it's going to be worth my life, if it's worthy of being called a masterpiece. How will I finish this? For how long?

It has always been the middle that makes me grit my teeth. The beginning is always the hardest part, I believe. But it gets difficult only for a short time. The road towards the ending is the most exciting to make, while the middle is a torture I have to endure to get to the best part. The end is when the peak begins to settle and is probably the easiest to forget, if not forged well. It is the chance to tie loose ends, to release the uneasiness building up with the thought of 'is it good enough?' To make peace with self, and just be proud—for a period of time—before the possibility of disliking it. In the end, it's still hard to get contented.

Does it always have to be like this?

Does the road to greatness mean a long journey of suffering?

(Written: 16Dec2019)

Author's Note:

I had a lot of thoughts when I was writing this. I apologize if it turned out to be confusing for some of you. I let it be, wanting to somehow capture the rush of ideas that come to me in a moment's notice. It's like welcoming you inside my head (lol). Please make yourselves comfortable.