eventually, all at once...
I've become a creature of habit, for better or worse. I don't know if it's what i'm supposed to be or if it's what I want to be. I spend each week just lost in the oblivion of routine...unable to really focus on anything but. The job has me tied to the desk all day, fighting a loosing stream of work that never really decreases. I'm a fan of some of the work, but the reality is that i'm just unsure if this is where I want to be. My whole tenure in LA has been by chance, an experiment. A decision made because I failed to apply myself and this was the best option I had left myself with. However perversely fun the time after graduation was, I really don't know what it achieved. A string of stories I don't know if I feel comfortable telling? A blotch on my employment track? I don't really know.
I'm coming up on my second year in LA and I just feel like i'm alone on an island. Should I stay? Should I go? At the end of each week, I can hardly even think. I've thought out what it is i'd like to say, to articulate about my situation but it's just broken sentences and static when I try to spit it out. The thought of trying is frustrating, even now, but it's just something I need to do. Each week rolls by and I don't know what I'm working for. Everytime the another day passes, I don't know why i'm carrying on, but that I cannot stop. I've never really known what my path is to be. I'm defined by what is around me. I am just a metaconceptual, to a fault. Nothing is truly worth doing? Maybe, nothing is truly worth doing. I've never really answered those questions, just focused on the short term, unraveled my life for the sake of others, pressed on into the wind for no reason but that I know you have to keep moving. Right?
I've no one to tell my stories to, because maybe I just don't know how anymore. What is the motivation to create when you just feel like all that comes out is some form of failure. I'm really just satisfied by experience, but on the same page, living that way is a struggled path.
What do I want out of the next 5 years? I want to create something that is received well, by others and myself. I want to collaborate on art. I want to make some music. I want to get out of debt. I don't even know what of these is possible.
I don't know where I want to be when I do it. I feel like I could plod on in LA, but it's just like treading water. I don't have the patience or desire to be successful here. This place is for a different kind of person, both from the perspective of career and culture. The weather isn't worth it. I need to be elsewhere. This much I've realized. I can't keep just peeling away the layers as I have been, it's too tiring. I'm unhappy and unsatisfied by the amount of work put in to what is received both financial and emotionally.
I also start to feel like I'm a failure for not wanting to try. Not wanting to take the punches that come with living this life. I guess I could hack it if I was trying for an industry here that had higher rewards...but this is comics. A weird little self contained universe that I was born into. I do like the chaos and the energy, but I honestly can't handle it. If this job were in another city? Sure. I don't even know anymore if I got more money for what i'm doing if I could keep at it. I feel frustrated by LA, though I can discern its merits. Just like Chicago, I love it...but I don't know if have a place here.
I need seasons. I like fall and winter. Those are just not here.
I guess life kind of sickens me. I'm so tired of the routine. The choices are just too much for me. Maybe they've always been too much. I think I was destined to be who I am now, for better or worse.
I just need to put a gun to my head and force a decision. Call my own bluff. Otherwise I'll just meander down any road that will have me regardless of my own joy.
I feel torn between just giving in and abandoning the city. Going somewhere small and just fighting a smaller fight. I'm just so exhausted. But, I'd feel like a failure. Which means NYC, I suppose. It's like a lap, run away then back.
Ideally....
I don't even know what's ideal anymore.
I'm coming up on my second year in LA and I just feel like i'm alone on an island. Should I stay? Should I go? At the end of each week, I can hardly even think. I've thought out what it is i'd like to say, to articulate about my situation but it's just broken sentences and static when I try to spit it out. The thought of trying is frustrating, even now, but it's just something I need to do. Each week rolls by and I don't know what I'm working for. Everytime the another day passes, I don't know why i'm carrying on, but that I cannot stop. I've never really known what my path is to be. I'm defined by what is around me. I am just a metaconceptual, to a fault. Nothing is truly worth doing? Maybe, nothing is truly worth doing. I've never really answered those questions, just focused on the short term, unraveled my life for the sake of others, pressed on into the wind for no reason but that I know you have to keep moving. Right?
I've no one to tell my stories to, because maybe I just don't know how anymore. What is the motivation to create when you just feel like all that comes out is some form of failure. I'm really just satisfied by experience, but on the same page, living that way is a struggled path.
What do I want out of the next 5 years? I want to create something that is received well, by others and myself. I want to collaborate on art. I want to make some music. I want to get out of debt. I don't even know what of these is possible.
I don't know where I want to be when I do it. I feel like I could plod on in LA, but it's just like treading water. I don't have the patience or desire to be successful here. This place is for a different kind of person, both from the perspective of career and culture. The weather isn't worth it. I need to be elsewhere. This much I've realized. I can't keep just peeling away the layers as I have been, it's too tiring. I'm unhappy and unsatisfied by the amount of work put in to what is received both financial and emotionally.
I also start to feel like I'm a failure for not wanting to try. Not wanting to take the punches that come with living this life. I guess I could hack it if I was trying for an industry here that had higher rewards...but this is comics. A weird little self contained universe that I was born into. I do like the chaos and the energy, but I honestly can't handle it. If this job were in another city? Sure. I don't even know anymore if I got more money for what i'm doing if I could keep at it. I feel frustrated by LA, though I can discern its merits. Just like Chicago, I love it...but I don't know if have a place here.
I need seasons. I like fall and winter. Those are just not here.
I guess life kind of sickens me. I'm so tired of the routine. The choices are just too much for me. Maybe they've always been too much. I think I was destined to be who I am now, for better or worse.
I just need to put a gun to my head and force a decision. Call my own bluff. Otherwise I'll just meander down any road that will have me regardless of my own joy.
I feel torn between just giving in and abandoning the city. Going somewhere small and just fighting a smaller fight. I'm just so exhausted. But, I'd feel like a failure. Which means NYC, I suppose. It's like a lap, run away then back.
Ideally....
I don't even know what's ideal anymore.