The diverging road into that goddamned yellow wood.

When I stepped out of secondary school, armed with my SPM results, I had only 1 vision and 1 thought in mind - to live a creative life, taking life from the rear and by surprise. To live unlike my dad - old, sad, and tired. Tired of his job, his repetitive schedule of 9 to 5, his boring white shirts, his dog-eared newspapers as he comes home from work looking all bummed out and frustrated, and most of all, tired of his life. No doubt, I am no one to judge my dad like that, but goddamnit I say what I see. I was determined to live a life that's fun and unpredictable, and the only way out was design. I had no idea whatsoever of what a graphic designer did, but I signed up for it anyway at my nearby college. Boy did I regret it.

I always had a way with words- it comes naturally to me how I should place it, how to make a mundane sentence sublimely whambam, how to describe a taste, a feeling, that is so often fleetingly forgettable, describe something gory so graphically slimy that you could actually see pus oozing out of that zombie's eye, and I can do it all with ease. Then again, my family never did nurture this strength of mine, never did they thought that it could be my only and most powerful tool to survive in this savagely competitive working world. I've never thought I could use words to support my life, not until much later in life when I found out about copywriting.

With that said, could a career change now from a graphic designer to a copywriter actually be too drastic and too dangerous, with that loan looming up ahead? 5 grand isn't a small amount, but it's too small an amount to be toying at my future with, not to mention 15 grand.

What should I do.. sigh.

All comes down to the question:

To pursue, or not to pursue.