I need the money money money.
I have come to the very sad realization that I can't sustain my current lifestyle past January. If I fight and really get creative, I may manage to hold out until my lease runs out in June - that would be ideal. But I really wanted to take most of April off from life to tour, and I just don't see how that can happen unless I actually start to make a profit on my music (not impossible, but would change the nature of things).
I really have been fighting against the idea of a Real Job, for reasons I can't completely articulate. Some of my hesitancy stems from the inability to take vacation (ludicrous). Mostly I'm just afraid I'll get stuck. I can't stay in Virginia, I just absolutely cannot. I have to have lived somewhere else. I can't imagine - to have died living in the same town I was born. What a terrifying idea. And obviously that won't happen, I've moved out and on, but I'm still within an hour of my birthplace and the world is so big that it makes no sense to live so small.
It all comes back to money. Money money money money money. I just finished rereading Daniel Handler's Adverbs, perhaps my favorite thing that he's written, and the money chapters stuck out at me a bit more than they have in the past (that and Collectively - my god, how did I mistake such beauty as utter absurdity before? and of course it is absurd, but in a beautiful way, that way only Handler can quite pull off). I got Helena - how stuck she feels. Follow the money, and the money dries up, and we make things up, and we have ideas that never pan out and our successes are just never enough to actually propel us forward. Money money money money money. Such a problem.
And still I have no clue what to do with myself. It's almost been a year since I left school, and I've turned myself into potpourri. I know that in the overall scheme of my life, this year will be utterly forgettable (but then, says that fiendish little voice in the back of my head, how is that different from any other year?) and that's such a bummer to know. My collab channel cohorts asked me to share some of my writing, and I couldn't find anything I thought was pretty to share. How have I written nothing pretty since high school? What's wrong with me? How do I restart?
No clue. Not even the slightest. And I'd say 'I'll figure it out,' but the thing is that I won't. I never do. I try and follow the opportunities and interests that arise naturally before me, and music has been that thing for the past year. But I don't know how long it will continue to be that thing and so I am ever so slightly hesitant to follow it. I know people think I'm crazy. I personally am exceptionally aware of mediocrity. But that's never stopped me before, so onward I plunge. My favorite college professor often said to do what you love, and the money would follow. It's a nice idea. But I really would just like for the money to catch up with me. It does so little good, lagging so far behind.
I really have been fighting against the idea of a Real Job, for reasons I can't completely articulate. Some of my hesitancy stems from the inability to take vacation (ludicrous). Mostly I'm just afraid I'll get stuck. I can't stay in Virginia, I just absolutely cannot. I have to have lived somewhere else. I can't imagine - to have died living in the same town I was born. What a terrifying idea. And obviously that won't happen, I've moved out and on, but I'm still within an hour of my birthplace and the world is so big that it makes no sense to live so small.
It all comes back to money. Money money money money money. I just finished rereading Daniel Handler's Adverbs, perhaps my favorite thing that he's written, and the money chapters stuck out at me a bit more than they have in the past (that and Collectively - my god, how did I mistake such beauty as utter absurdity before? and of course it is absurd, but in a beautiful way, that way only Handler can quite pull off). I got Helena - how stuck she feels. Follow the money, and the money dries up, and we make things up, and we have ideas that never pan out and our successes are just never enough to actually propel us forward. Money money money money money. Such a problem.
And still I have no clue what to do with myself. It's almost been a year since I left school, and I've turned myself into potpourri. I know that in the overall scheme of my life, this year will be utterly forgettable (but then, says that fiendish little voice in the back of my head, how is that different from any other year?) and that's such a bummer to know. My collab channel cohorts asked me to share some of my writing, and I couldn't find anything I thought was pretty to share. How have I written nothing pretty since high school? What's wrong with me? How do I restart?
No clue. Not even the slightest. And I'd say 'I'll figure it out,' but the thing is that I won't. I never do. I try and follow the opportunities and interests that arise naturally before me, and music has been that thing for the past year. But I don't know how long it will continue to be that thing and so I am ever so slightly hesitant to follow it. I know people think I'm crazy. I personally am exceptionally aware of mediocrity. But that's never stopped me before, so onward I plunge. My favorite college professor often said to do what you love, and the money would follow. It's a nice idea. But I really would just like for the money to catch up with me. It does so little good, lagging so far behind.