Broke a promise I had saved up for you.
I've been down for the last 2 days... I don't know if it's because of the depression or just because I've had alot on my mind lately. Lately I've been thinking about How most of mylife I have desired to be a writer.. But the more I think about it how could of a writer could I ever be.. I have no life experiance.. I've lead somewhat a sheltered life.. In the sense I haven't gone out and experianced the world.. I've isolated myself from people because of shit in my past but in the end I now realize how that has impaired me as a writer. I'm planning to uproot myself again.. but I haven't told my parents and I've only briefly mentioned it to a coworker I can trust about how if given the chance to save up about 10,000 I'd plan my move... I've already been surfing the internet a bit trying to find different cities that offer what I'm looking for---a hot music scene, a great art scene, and of course a university and a bunch of coffee houses.---I've only found a few cities that meet those requirements but I think I've found myself deciding between Seattle,Portland, St. Louis, and Yeah call me a poser Even NYC. not that I could even afford to live there....Locally I've been thinking Pasadena because it's a decent college down the Norton Simon Museum is there and it has it's own little music scene it's plus it's only about 45 mins from LA. But the only way I'd move is only if I could make sure I'd make enought to sustain myself comfortably and still be able to send my folks money. I know I help my parents out alot and that is my filial duty. I am not ashamed by it and I feel like a heel any time I feel like I am unable to live up to that duty.
I need life experiance I need to go out and experiance life, meet new types of people because if I don't what kind of writer would I be? Look at Kerouac, Hemmingway, Ginsberg, Pahlaniuk, ---I know given the chance and the money I'd straight pull my own version of on the road.. grab a friend for 4 months only a large backpack full of jeans and black shirts my laptop and a few burned cd tracks to start the trip---and I'd be gone.. I'd go place in the US that I have never been and I'd look for inspiration.. and I'd write.. and write.. I'd find that which inspires and motivates and I would follow it and never look back.. abandon myself in the world that I could just find true inspiration and just follow my heart.. but unfortunately I don't see that happening anytime soon. I feel like I live such a sedate and mundane life.. where my biggest problem is wondering if my laundry is done so I have clothes to go to work... I've resigned myself to a life of materialism, paying bills, and the daily chores of life... I never wanted this.. I didn't want to become this type of person.. I used to believe I had strong opinions and desires of how I wanted to change the world in my mind.. and now I feel like those have been abandoned and shoved in the shadow in an attempt to be accepted in a world that I'm realised could give a shit if I'm accepted or not.
People think I'm discontented by my life because I suffer from depression... I wish that was it.. but in reality the more I think about it is because my life has grown mundane---writers had sin.. vice.. experiance.. I lack that..
I need life experiance I need to go out and experiance life, meet new types of people because if I don't what kind of writer would I be? Look at Kerouac, Hemmingway, Ginsberg, Pahlaniuk, ---I know given the chance and the money I'd straight pull my own version of on the road.. grab a friend for 4 months only a large backpack full of jeans and black shirts my laptop and a few burned cd tracks to start the trip---and I'd be gone.. I'd go place in the US that I have never been and I'd look for inspiration.. and I'd write.. and write.. I'd find that which inspires and motivates and I would follow it and never look back.. abandon myself in the world that I could just find true inspiration and just follow my heart.. but unfortunately I don't see that happening anytime soon. I feel like I live such a sedate and mundane life.. where my biggest problem is wondering if my laundry is done so I have clothes to go to work... I've resigned myself to a life of materialism, paying bills, and the daily chores of life... I never wanted this.. I didn't want to become this type of person.. I used to believe I had strong opinions and desires of how I wanted to change the world in my mind.. and now I feel like those have been abandoned and shoved in the shadow in an attempt to be accepted in a world that I'm realised could give a shit if I'm accepted or not.
People think I'm discontented by my life because I suffer from depression... I wish that was it.. but in reality the more I think about it is because my life has grown mundane---writers had sin.. vice.. experiance.. I lack that..