Not being in school and working a full time fast food job while not having any real prospects is rather dismal. I would like to pity myself and say that I struggle everyday to get out of bed to continue the grind but It’s not a struggle. My mundane life has become a menial routine of attempted self betterment. Everything I am saying is contradicting what I have said just a sentence before and It loops. Its strange, Is this what adult hood is? How long will I wander aimlessly before something finally catches? A constant worry of mine is that I will not be able to see anything to its end. For example I told myself in my moving out of my house that I would also attend school and study business. I never even gave that the time of day. All because I didn’t think I had any real assets to utilize. Spending money and time on something scares me… commitment scares me. What if this falls through?
I feel grounded in my trombone practices, Blog and board game designing. These are all things that I love but am not committing to in such a way that it requires I sign on for years to come , dumping money into something I can’t find my way out of. These are my hobbies and interests. They are developing at the pace I desire them to. Nothing dictates the speed at which I do what I like but my own personal drive. Sure the results are not relevant nor may they ever be but I get joy and courage from my small accomplishments.
Reading back over this is actually giving me a head ache.
I don’t know why I don’t try and facilitate my thoughts better. Organization is something I value but can never clearly apply to my writing. That I am sure will come with time and careful attention.
None of this made any sense to me as I typed it out but I felt I shouldn’t stifle the flow.