"So I took the path less travelled by/
And I barely made it out alive"
- 'Rebel Heart,' Madonna
37 countries. 2 universities, no degree. Incredibly bright, no official occupation. 3 extended periods of living across 3 different continents. 4, if you count those 5 weeks in Thailand. Hospitalisations in China and Australia. Exalted volunteering. New friends. Lack of financial independence or mobility beyond Australia.
I don't know what to do with myself. I've lived an extraordinary life, and it's probably time to take the plunge and write my first book, but it's scary. Until I learn to earn my own money, I will invariably feel trapped by circumstance. I've been planning to write a book for a very long time.
With every innovative book I read, I feel I can follow in these authors' footsteps. But then that feeling quickly fades and is replaced with self-loathing and a sense of worthlessness.
They say, 'one step at a time.' Build your self-compassion. Keep reading. Yes, keep reading. Books are artificial narratives of meaning to consume, but hey - why not. There's much to be gained in their comprehensive tours around the writerly soul. They help me.
I am facing an existential crisis of sorts. A flight from Sydney to Hobart next week will include me as a passenger. I have concluded that it's almost sort of affordable to move out in Hobart, providing I like it enough. My parents will supplement my income by a small amount. I will be free!
But I fear loneliness. I fear being isolated in a city where attitudes are provincial and I am even more of an eccentric than I am now.
Moving beyond fear is where I'm trying to be at - but first things first: What will my week in Hobart bring into my life, and will I wish it were reproduced for the foreseeable future?
*
Oh, and I really don't want Gary Oldman to win the Best Actor Oscar. I was instinctively repulsed by him long before I learned of his defence of Mel Gibson, or calling Nancy Pelosi a c*nt.
Too many horrible things floating around in my consciousness. You'll forgive the purge.
And I barely made it out alive"
- 'Rebel Heart,' Madonna
37 countries. 2 universities, no degree. Incredibly bright, no official occupation. 3 extended periods of living across 3 different continents. 4, if you count those 5 weeks in Thailand. Hospitalisations in China and Australia. Exalted volunteering. New friends. Lack of financial independence or mobility beyond Australia.
I don't know what to do with myself. I've lived an extraordinary life, and it's probably time to take the plunge and write my first book, but it's scary. Until I learn to earn my own money, I will invariably feel trapped by circumstance. I've been planning to write a book for a very long time.
With every innovative book I read, I feel I can follow in these authors' footsteps. But then that feeling quickly fades and is replaced with self-loathing and a sense of worthlessness.
They say, 'one step at a time.' Build your self-compassion. Keep reading. Yes, keep reading. Books are artificial narratives of meaning to consume, but hey - why not. There's much to be gained in their comprehensive tours around the writerly soul. They help me.
I am facing an existential crisis of sorts. A flight from Sydney to Hobart next week will include me as a passenger. I have concluded that it's almost sort of affordable to move out in Hobart, providing I like it enough. My parents will supplement my income by a small amount. I will be free!
But I fear loneliness. I fear being isolated in a city where attitudes are provincial and I am even more of an eccentric than I am now.
Moving beyond fear is where I'm trying to be at - but first things first: What will my week in Hobart bring into my life, and will I wish it were reproduced for the foreseeable future?
*
Oh, and I really don't want Gary Oldman to win the Best Actor Oscar. I was instinctively repulsed by him long before I learned of his defence of Mel Gibson, or calling Nancy Pelosi a c*nt.
Too many horrible things floating around in my consciousness. You'll forgive the purge.
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