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I don't really know where to start this. I've never been good at pouring my thoughts out on paper, at least not for the last 3 years, and it only seems to get worse when I'm using a computer. All of which kinda sucks considering I'm supposed to be a writer. I guess I'm just going to give it a go and try to get the thoughts out in some sort of coherent order (spelling and grammar optional)
I guess I'm lost. That would be the most accurate description of it. Lost.
It's amazing how much can be summed up in one little 4 letter word. Lost. Love. Dead. Numb. All of these words can mean so much despite their simplicity and sometimes that thought floors me.
I want to be a writer, sometimes I even think I might have a talent for it, but at the same time I know that I'm not going to get there. And it's all because I'm lost. It doesn't matter that I've got an entire world to play with, a rich history, some fantastic characters and possibly the skills to carry it off. None of that matters because I don't know myself.
God this already sounds like one of those 16 year old wangst-fests where I proclaim "woe is me, I shall forever be in the darkity darkness of my soul" (cookie if you get that reference) and I'm not sure if posting this is a good idea or not, but I need to get this out, and I guess this is the best place for it at the moment.
I know that I should be over most of this by now, I mean I'm almost 22 for crying out loud, but it still rears it's ugly head, much like a lot of the problems that I keep shoved down inside. One day I'm going to have to deal with them properly, but until then I just keep going.
And that is part of the problem. I just keep going. Everything seems to be going just fine. I'm married to a wonderful person, who understands me like I doubt anyone else ever could, and we've been going strong for almost 5 years now.
I've got a good job at the moment, even if it is part of my degree, and I'm looking set to get at least a 1st class degree, if not an honours, if I can pull my weight next year.
We've got a new place to live, since our tenancy agreement expires at the end of June and we didn't renew it (mice which take the landlord 8 months to do anything about, boiler problems over Christmas that take a month to fix and the such do tend to make you not like a place) It is nice, cheaper than what we've got both in terms of rent and running costs, good location, the works.
I've got a world to play in and enough story ideas that I could currently fill at least 13 books with them and have no problems.
And yet something seems to be missing. I seem to be missing. It's like in this good life I've lost myself and I have no idea where to start looking.
It feels like I need to be doing something. It feels like I'm stagnating without a reasonable challenge, like I'm wasting time that I should be using to learn something, like I've broken apart into the amorphous cloud that has no identity to separate it from the rest of the wisps out there.
There is nothing to distinguish me from anyone. And I'm not talking about something to make me famous or special or visible. I'm talking about something that makes me able to separate myself from the rest of the population. I'm bland and I don't know what to do about it, but I know that I need to do something to find myself, to center myself, or those things that make my life so good are going to evaporate around my ears.
I guess I'm lost. That would be the most accurate description of it. Lost.
It's amazing how much can be summed up in one little 4 letter word. Lost. Love. Dead. Numb. All of these words can mean so much despite their simplicity and sometimes that thought floors me.
I want to be a writer, sometimes I even think I might have a talent for it, but at the same time I know that I'm not going to get there. And it's all because I'm lost. It doesn't matter that I've got an entire world to play with, a rich history, some fantastic characters and possibly the skills to carry it off. None of that matters because I don't know myself.
God this already sounds like one of those 16 year old wangst-fests where I proclaim "woe is me, I shall forever be in the darkity darkness of my soul" (cookie if you get that reference) and I'm not sure if posting this is a good idea or not, but I need to get this out, and I guess this is the best place for it at the moment.
I know that I should be over most of this by now, I mean I'm almost 22 for crying out loud, but it still rears it's ugly head, much like a lot of the problems that I keep shoved down inside. One day I'm going to have to deal with them properly, but until then I just keep going.
And that is part of the problem. I just keep going. Everything seems to be going just fine. I'm married to a wonderful person, who understands me like I doubt anyone else ever could, and we've been going strong for almost 5 years now.
I've got a good job at the moment, even if it is part of my degree, and I'm looking set to get at least a 1st class degree, if not an honours, if I can pull my weight next year.
We've got a new place to live, since our tenancy agreement expires at the end of June and we didn't renew it (mice which take the landlord 8 months to do anything about, boiler problems over Christmas that take a month to fix and the such do tend to make you not like a place) It is nice, cheaper than what we've got both in terms of rent and running costs, good location, the works.
I've got a world to play in and enough story ideas that I could currently fill at least 13 books with them and have no problems.
And yet something seems to be missing. I seem to be missing. It's like in this good life I've lost myself and I have no idea where to start looking.
It feels like I need to be doing something. It feels like I'm stagnating without a reasonable challenge, like I'm wasting time that I should be using to learn something, like I've broken apart into the amorphous cloud that has no identity to separate it from the rest of the wisps out there.
There is nothing to distinguish me from anyone. And I'm not talking about something to make me famous or special or visible. I'm talking about something that makes me able to separate myself from the rest of the population. I'm bland and I don't know what to do about it, but I know that I need to do something to find myself, to center myself, or those things that make my life so good are going to evaporate around my ears.
