Enantiodromia
Looking for jobs is killing me. I have looked everywhere for anything that would give me nights and weekends off (I can't whine too much with that kind of restriction on jobs that I'll take, I know). I haven't found much. I'm still trying, though.
What kills me is that I have the training, experience, and potential to land any audio engineering/concert/production job that I desire. I worked until I collapsed from exhaustion for months on end to establish myself in an industry that I grew to despise. I was so disillusioned. The world that I had idolized since childhood grew to mean nothing to me. Herekleitos wrote long ago that the way up and the way down are one and the same. As high as I had climbed, as fast as I had climbed, I then fell. Boy did it hurt. I put away my guitars, my basses, and my drums to collect dust. I went back to school and went to go work a normal teenage job just like everyone else I knew. For a while, it was good. I was nothing extraordinary. I was human--all too human. After a while, it wasn't so good anymore. I could feel myself stagnating in my surroundings. Not unlike Buster Friendly, I could feel the kipple creeping in, enveloping me, converging from all around me. I was suffocating, rotting, my potential slowly crumbling, falling away, turning to dust.
I had to get out. I needed some way to start over. I desperately needed something new. And, like a gift from the heavens, something new came. A new life and a new home, some place far away from my life in Texas, where I knew no one but the woman I love. I shouldn't have expected this to be easy. I was that girl who knew everyone, who had her foot in the door anywhere she wanted to be, who couldn't walk down the street without running into someone she knew. I'm a stranger here. And as charismatic as I can be when the opportunity is right, my charisma does nothing for me if I can't get my foot in the door.
I am filled with impatience and solitude. I need new friends. I need money. I need to get the hell out of this shell--how I got into it, I'm not sure--and grab my new little world by the horns before it kills me.
I cannot, however, seem to get past this overwhelming fear that I will again choose poorly in my vocations. That all my attempts in finding harmony will end in discord. That I will finally grow and accomplish all that I had planned and that it would end the same as before, in ruin. When I was young, I looked at the world as if it--and I--was made of infinite possibility. Now I see a narrow and treacherous path. Perhaps I just need to be patient.
Panta rhei...
What kills me is that I have the training, experience, and potential to land any audio engineering/concert/production job that I desire. I worked until I collapsed from exhaustion for months on end to establish myself in an industry that I grew to despise. I was so disillusioned. The world that I had idolized since childhood grew to mean nothing to me. Herekleitos wrote long ago that the way up and the way down are one and the same. As high as I had climbed, as fast as I had climbed, I then fell. Boy did it hurt. I put away my guitars, my basses, and my drums to collect dust. I went back to school and went to go work a normal teenage job just like everyone else I knew. For a while, it was good. I was nothing extraordinary. I was human--all too human. After a while, it wasn't so good anymore. I could feel myself stagnating in my surroundings. Not unlike Buster Friendly, I could feel the kipple creeping in, enveloping me, converging from all around me. I was suffocating, rotting, my potential slowly crumbling, falling away, turning to dust.
I had to get out. I needed some way to start over. I desperately needed something new. And, like a gift from the heavens, something new came. A new life and a new home, some place far away from my life in Texas, where I knew no one but the woman I love. I shouldn't have expected this to be easy. I was that girl who knew everyone, who had her foot in the door anywhere she wanted to be, who couldn't walk down the street without running into someone she knew. I'm a stranger here. And as charismatic as I can be when the opportunity is right, my charisma does nothing for me if I can't get my foot in the door.
I am filled with impatience and solitude. I need new friends. I need money. I need to get the hell out of this shell--how I got into it, I'm not sure--and grab my new little world by the horns before it kills me.
I cannot, however, seem to get past this overwhelming fear that I will again choose poorly in my vocations. That all my attempts in finding harmony will end in discord. That I will finally grow and accomplish all that I had planned and that it would end the same as before, in ruin. When I was young, I looked at the world as if it--and I--was made of infinite possibility. Now I see a narrow and treacherous path. Perhaps I just need to be patient.
Panta rhei...