I Got So Many Things You Haven't Got
Aug. 31st, 2011 01:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainspiritI need to do something. I need to get out of here.
Twenty-three and what the fuck is there to show for it?
There are people my age or less that are already making beautiful things, or participating in something amazing.
I need to do something. I need to change.
I'm going to go back to a university I somewhat despise, with courses I might not even be getting into this term.
It has to start soon. It has to start now.
Getting out of Victoria is the first step. The second step is going somewhere that INSPIRES me. When the hell have I ever been inspired lately?
The thirt thing is finding people with goals similar to mine. I can't motivate myself by myself. I need people around me, doing the things that I want to do, things that will keep me going. I need to be around people who want to transform into their idealized selves, and are pulling out all the stops to get there.
I love Galiano, so much. It's given me a home and a purpose. But the longer I do this job, the more I realize that SOMETHING needs to happen. I can't just be a cleaner forever. Doing this saved me from my own self-destructive tendencies, and now I need to keep moving, show to the world that I am fucking here and now you get to listen to me.
Also: I think I need to wean myself off roleplaying.
Games are fine. Amateur writing's fine. But I need to start getting serious. All it's doing is making me look for a social group, when there's things I need to do. I was born with a purpose, I know this, I KNOW THIS. And it doesn't matter that I have all the time in my finite life to make it, I burn with desire to do it now, and get all my mistakes out of the way.
I want to make something ambitious. I want to BE ambitious so I can start making things.
Archibald and the Bard are changing in my mind. They're becoming different people as I change, keep changing. They're always there, in the back of my mind: The fantasy book I may never write, in its entirety. But I want to get out and lay the groundwork, do some research.
It's all well and good to talk about my autistic tendencies by way of making a book. But that's not really me, is it? The more I look around, the more I'm convinced that I don't have Asperger's so much as I have symptoms that could characterize me as someone with Asperger's. I am not the aspie you are looking for.
Thinking of getting a tumblr. Want a channel to start expressing my voice. Beautiful things are being created on that thing; I think I want to start participating, small as it is.
---
Ever mortal, ever conscious of mortality.
I've been disturbing myself with how much I've begun mentally debating advice I'd pass on to other progeny. I'm grateful to my bigger (smaller) sister for birthing a son, as I get to deflect it all to his young shoulders, to some extent; either that, or I imagine partaking in some Big Brother program, being the cool guy who's there for some kid that needs it.
When I was still in Southfield, I dreamed of someone older that would save me from growing up alone: Not a seasoned adult past their thirties, but a big brother figure, who knew about life and who could teach me about it. I implanted this fantasy into an alternate universe taking place in my head, where Calvin and Hobbes (my favourite comic book duo at the time) found a kid who was, well, I guess my age at the time (10, 11?) who understood him and could be a liaison for the outside world he'd sequestered himself from. I dreamed about this and smiled, feeling a taste of redemption.
There was a time I was on uneasy terms with my inner child - my sometime craniosacral therapist could probably agree with that. To this day, I'm still not sure where we stand. I feel scarred all around me, unsure of how to embrace my own childhood. But I'm remembering the days when I played with action heroes and lego; in all my time growing up, this is what I'm beginning to feel nostalgic for. My imagination was always there for me when I needed it.
I want to be there for myself, now. I may not have the advice I wanted, or the saviour I dreamed of, but I at least have the self-awareness to know that I have everything I need, right now. All that's holding me back is fear, and complacency.
Twenty-three and what the fuck is there to show for it?
There are people my age or less that are already making beautiful things, or participating in something amazing.
I need to do something. I need to change.
I'm going to go back to a university I somewhat despise, with courses I might not even be getting into this term.
It has to start soon. It has to start now.
Getting out of Victoria is the first step. The second step is going somewhere that INSPIRES me. When the hell have I ever been inspired lately?
The thirt thing is finding people with goals similar to mine. I can't motivate myself by myself. I need people around me, doing the things that I want to do, things that will keep me going. I need to be around people who want to transform into their idealized selves, and are pulling out all the stops to get there.
I love Galiano, so much. It's given me a home and a purpose. But the longer I do this job, the more I realize that SOMETHING needs to happen. I can't just be a cleaner forever. Doing this saved me from my own self-destructive tendencies, and now I need to keep moving, show to the world that I am fucking here and now you get to listen to me.
Also: I think I need to wean myself off roleplaying.
Games are fine. Amateur writing's fine. But I need to start getting serious. All it's doing is making me look for a social group, when there's things I need to do. I was born with a purpose, I know this, I KNOW THIS. And it doesn't matter that I have all the time in my finite life to make it, I burn with desire to do it now, and get all my mistakes out of the way.
I want to make something ambitious. I want to BE ambitious so I can start making things.
Archibald and the Bard are changing in my mind. They're becoming different people as I change, keep changing. They're always there, in the back of my mind: The fantasy book I may never write, in its entirety. But I want to get out and lay the groundwork, do some research.
It's all well and good to talk about my autistic tendencies by way of making a book. But that's not really me, is it? The more I look around, the more I'm convinced that I don't have Asperger's so much as I have symptoms that could characterize me as someone with Asperger's. I am not the aspie you are looking for.
Thinking of getting a tumblr. Want a channel to start expressing my voice. Beautiful things are being created on that thing; I think I want to start participating, small as it is.
---
Ever mortal, ever conscious of mortality.
I've been disturbing myself with how much I've begun mentally debating advice I'd pass on to other progeny. I'm grateful to my bigger (smaller) sister for birthing a son, as I get to deflect it all to his young shoulders, to some extent; either that, or I imagine partaking in some Big Brother program, being the cool guy who's there for some kid that needs it.
When I was still in Southfield, I dreamed of someone older that would save me from growing up alone: Not a seasoned adult past their thirties, but a big brother figure, who knew about life and who could teach me about it. I implanted this fantasy into an alternate universe taking place in my head, where Calvin and Hobbes (my favourite comic book duo at the time) found a kid who was, well, I guess my age at the time (10, 11?) who understood him and could be a liaison for the outside world he'd sequestered himself from. I dreamed about this and smiled, feeling a taste of redemption.
There was a time I was on uneasy terms with my inner child - my sometime craniosacral therapist could probably agree with that. To this day, I'm still not sure where we stand. I feel scarred all around me, unsure of how to embrace my own childhood. But I'm remembering the days when I played with action heroes and lego; in all my time growing up, this is what I'm beginning to feel nostalgic for. My imagination was always there for me when I needed it.
I want to be there for myself, now. I may not have the advice I wanted, or the saviour I dreamed of, but I at least have the self-awareness to know that I have everything I need, right now. All that's holding me back is fear, and complacency.