I used to believe this absolute certainty was a blessing, sparing me from the hesitation and disorientation of choosing pathways or navigating sharp turns. However, my three years in high school have shattered that illusion. They made me profoundly realise that there are countless paths in life; to discover the one that suits you best, you must refuse to confine yourself to a single track.
I have been captivated by stories for as long as I can remember—picture books, novels, animations, and films have always served as my ephemeral utopia in reality. Consequently, during my lower secondary years, captivated by Western animation and cinematic works, I firmly resolved to become an animator. It felt like the ultimate future, marrying my storytelling instincts with my lifelong passion for drawing.
Naturally, upon entering high school, I began immersing myself in animation techniques. For an entire term, I buried my head in mechanics of motion, character design, and frame-by-frame stuttering sequences. I became so preoccupied with whether the visuals were fluid and whether the perspective ratios were flawless that I completely lost sight of my original purpose: to tell a story.
It was only when the thought of giving up crossed my mind that I woke up to reality. I had been walking a path so narrow that I could only see the stones beneath my feet, entirely blind to the vast, open fields beyond.