Dear Abby,

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately (a dangerous pastime ... I know) -- ok enough "Beauty and The Beast" references.  

The statement "I've been doing a lot of thinking," should not be a shocking one coming from me.  I have been told on multiple occasions that I "think more than anyone"; a ridiculous statement, as I find it hard to believe that I think more than the rest of the world.  Regardless, after years of denial, I have grown to embrace -- even appreciate -- my over-thinking side, it makes me uniquely analytical.  Or tightly wound.  I'll go with being the former.

My volleying thought has been: what are dreams?  Now when I say dreams I don't mean the mismatched storylines that float through our heads nonesensically in the late hours of the night.  I mean passions, hopes, aspirations.  To refine my thought further: is it acceptable to go for our dreams?

I am at a crossroad right now in my future.  I can choose the path of quick success (perhaps success is too strong a word) and find a job in journalism or a related field.  There I can work day in and day out climbing a corporate latter that I really wouldn't mind never tackling in a lifetime.  I would have a stable paycheck, sound successful in social settings, and make a meager difference in the world.  It would be a career that I worked for.  It would also be a career that I didn't much like.

Option number two is to become an English teacher.  This option would require more schooling, which I'm comfortable with.  The main issue is that I'd have to wait until Fall to begin the endeavor, and I have quite a chunk of time until then.  The other issue is where would I want to go to school.  If I was a teacher I could share something that I love.  I would also run the risk of failing to show other people how to love or at least appreciate what I love.  Though chance and risk are present in anything, so I suppose I should embrace that factor in all my decisions.  As an English teacher I could also influence people on an individual level, this being something I know I'm passionate about.

My final option is to become a writer.  This is what every fiber of the deepest part of me wants.  This is also the most unrealistic, risky, and unstable option.  But to be honest, this option -- my dream -- is the only of the three options that feels truly right.  If I were to be a writer I would get my masters in creative writing, but this really couldn't happen for another year and a half due to application deadlines and timing.  Which leaves a year and a half of my life vastly open.  The good thing about a creative writing degree (one of the few stable things) is that it could most likely allow me to undertake some form of a teaching job; it would also be useful in publishing and some forms of journalism.  To be candid, this whole dream terrifies me.  What if I'm not good enough?  To fail in something you like is bad enough, but to fail in something you love ...  However, God did give me this love, and there's a pressing in me that feels like it will never rest until it tries.

Do I go after what I want, or do I pursue security?  

- Confused in La Mirada