A Thousand Lives I Want To Live.

Disclaimer: I wrote this passage in my journal when I was 17 years old, struggling to find myself and lost in all my interests. I felt a true sense of “freedom,” as if I were in the middle of the ocean. I’ve come to understand myself better since this time in my life, but I still use this random combination of incoherent raw thoughts to remind myself of how far I’ve come.

No one ever knows what they're doing; some are just better at faking it.

Good Works

Do I know what I’m doing with my life?

Not even a little. A new idea crashes into my mind every day, like cannon fire on a pirate ship. Maybe I’ll be a tattoo artist. No, day trading sounds better. Wait—what about architecture? Actually, I was thinking entrepreneur. But writing feels like home. Guitarist? That’d be electric. Philosopher? Maybe. I’m a natural leader—should I go into politics? Or maybe I’ll be an influencer. Or a model. Firefighter? That’d be badass.

My mind rarely settles. It shifts like the tide, chasing whatever passion or possibility drifts ashore. Why? A mix of reasons. But mostly, I think it’s because I genuinely don’t know who I’ll become in five, ten, or fifty years. I have a sense of who I am today, but people change. Circumstances evolve. Interests fade, and new passions ignite. Even values, the ones I once thought immovable, might shift with experience. So, how can I choose a single path and walk it for life?

Truth is—I want to be all those things. And who says I can’t?

Lately, I’ve been seriously considering politics. For over a year, it seemed like my calling. But then, a new thought emerged, soft and persistent: what if I became a priest?

The more I sit with it, the more it makes sense. I want to do good work. Pure work. And politics... well, politics rarely allows for that. I’m not sure I’m mentally or emotionally stable enough to carry the weight of millions on my back. But I can lead through my faith. I can guide hearts through Christ. That, I believe, I was built for.

I’ve written about all this in journals, but something about typing it out helps the thoughts click into place.

The truth is, I’m lost. Confused. I’m done pretending to have all the answers. I don’t. I know this: I’ve loved Jesus since I could form memories. My faith has always been the heartbeat beneath all the noise. Politics feels more like a hobby now. Faith is my calling.

Let me be clear—this doesn’t mean I’m abandoning my political aspirations altogether. But it does mean that my ambition now bows to something higher. God comes first. Always.

Thoughts from Last Night

My North Star? Professionally: to be abundantly wealthy—not for greed, but for good. “Fuck you” money, yes, but used to elevate lives, create change, and restructure systems for the better. Some of it is for me and my family. Most of it to build a better world. I want to be a household name—not for fame, but for impact.

Personally: to find true inner peace. To overthink less, to love more. To live with confidence. To maintain healthy relationships. I want to act boldly, fearless, and move forward even when I’m uncertain.

So, where do I begin?

Create.

That’s it. It’s the one thing I can do right now. Make something and put it out there. It costs nothing but could lead to everything. With consistency and honesty, a following might come. And with that, new doors—public speaking, activism, business, and maybe even full-time content creation.

I imagine the content styled like Nathaniel Drew’s—clean, simple, beautiful. Speaking one-on-one with the viewer. Raw honesty. Obvious truths. Highlighting problems and offering real solutions. Shot in nature. Surrounded by beauty. Fashionable. Confident. Uplifting. Helping others grow closer to the divine. And doing it all with style.

But I’ll be real with you—I’m scared.

I’m scared to create. Scared of failure. Scared of judgment. Because if this doesn’t work... what then? What else do I have? I work at Applebee’s. I’m not sitting on a pile of backup plans. I’m scared that failure will mean regret. That all this time will have been wasted.

But that’s not true.

If I create something that makes me proud—if even one person is impacted—there’s no regret in that. If I pour my heart into this, push myself, and grow, then it’s not a waste. It’s a gift. The fear of judgment? It’s real. People might clown me. They might tear me down. Hurt people do that sometimes. But ridicule is a part of the process. It comes. It goes.

And at the end of the day, I only care about the opinions of God, my family, and my closest friends. Even then—only God’s judgment truly matters. And I know He would be proud of me for trying. For doing good work. For striving to lift others up.

So I’ll create.

Scared, uncertain, and stumbling forward—but I’ll create.

For God. For others. For the version of myself, I hope to become.