Maybe I'll Never Complete My TBR List

I've never read 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. There, I said it.

It is very often that I am ashamed to call myself a reader because there are books that literally every person—at least every reader—has read years ago, but I haven't. And I keep thinking I'll read them. Maybe the next book I pick up will be one of those. But the next book never comes. As soon as I finish a book, I pick up something else instead of one from the pending list.

Then I see an Instagram reel of a book creator recommending "5 thrillers that'll keep you guessing until the last page," and I'm gone. I save the post, forget about it for weeks, and then, when I actually have to pick up a new book to read, the reel pops into my mind and I rush to my saved posts. But guess what? Over the weeks, I've saved tens of the same type of reels. So I start scrolling through them, and before I realise it, I've doomscrolled for half an hour.

That is how my TBR pile just keeps piling higher and higher. One month I'm saving posts for all kinds of political fiction reads, and the next I'm looking through hundreds of reels of romantasy recommendations. It's a never-ending list. There's a strange kind of satisfaction in wanting so much of something that your heart is never full of it.

But this isn't about books. Not really.

It's about all the silly dreams I have—things that I want to do in life. There's so much I want, yet such little time. I could probably fill a whole page with all the "jobs" I've wanted to do. Let's start with the primary one—the one I've dreamt of the longest.

My first-ever memory of being asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" isn't who asked me or when they asked it. Instead, it's what I immediately thought of: a writer. I wanted to write. I still want to write. And I don't think I've given up on that dream yet.

Then there's that one dream of being a dancer. I've been dancing ever since I learnt how to move my body, even a little, to the rhythm.

But do I love dancing on stage as much as I love singing on stage? Maybe. Maybe not.

Did I mention I also have a degree in Fine Arts? I knew how to draw a perfect circle before I knew the whole alphabet.

I see a literal goddess of a woman with the cutest crochet tote bag on her shoulders, and the next day I've convinced my mum to buy me a set of crochet hooks and dozens of balls of yarn.

When I'm doomscrolling for half an hour and I keep getting reel after reel of different content creators being their amazing selves in front of the camera, I want to be like them too. My next goal is to get myself a mini microphone like the ones content creators use. Oh, and a good camera, of course.

But one can only dream.

There's so much I want to do, but I keep thinking, Oh, there's time. I'll learn this tomorrow and that the day after.

Queen of procrastination, if you will.

As the days go by, the gap between the things I want to do and the things I've done just keeps getting bigger. There's no bridge long enough to bring the two together.

But there's a strange kind of giddiness in wanting so much. Imagine a life where you've ticked off every box on your to-do list. If you ask me, that sounds extremely boring. I'd just be full of anxiety, wondering, "Okay... what do I do next?"

So it's okay if I don't achieve everything that I dream of. Wanting it is good enough. People are wrong anyway—life isn't short. I have enough time to maybe fulfil half the things on the list, or, even better, add more to it.

Because life has never been about checking off every item on your list.

Maybe it's about never running out of things you want.

So it's okay if I never complete my TBR pile.

I'll just keep adding to it.