I think I’m done. At this point I have sent well over 750 job applications, hoping beyond hope that something would work. This is not exaggeration or allegory, I have genuinely sent almost a thousand applications over the last two months. Reason being that I do not want to go back to Mexico.
It’s not that I hate everything associated with it, just that I never felt at home there. The urgency and avoidance of it might make me melodramatic whenever I talk about life there. Its values and concerns always felt alien to me, so I always felt like the odd one out. I’ve made a true human connection over the last few years living in Europe. I’ve felt free to live life, explore sides of myself I didn’t know existed, and for the first time, I truly think that I’ve found who I am meant to be as a person. I can honestly say that for the last few years I’ve been of the happiest men alive.
Furthermore, I’ve always had the philosophy that if you’re persistent enough, you get what you want. That said, there are also natural limits to one’s actions – I can’t jump to the moon, no matter how hard I try. This immutable fact will not change, even if I dedicate the next lifetime to mastering my jumping technique.