I don’t know what I want.

I’ve planned my whole life. I wanted to get a job that I was good at and I wanted to move out of the town that I didn’t like. Every day, I imagined myself living far away from here in my new home and doing things I like. Simple, isn’t it?

How could it all fall apart? The job limited my creativity, people were talking on and on. My new home was made from paper, easy to burn down. The town was rotten to its roots, wouldn’t grow a single sunflower.

Where am I now?

What do I want?

I want to wake up in the morning and watch the mist clear above the woods and fields, drinking coffee on a patio.

I want to leave the house at dawn and climb a mountain only to watch the sunrise.

I want to drive somewhere, for the sake of driving.

I want to leave the house at sunset and walk the streets of a town, watching it fall asleep, waiting for lights.

Is that all what I should do?