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| march 11 2002 | ||||
| i have a dream to be a writer, i know i am very capable of being successful, its always been very realistic to me. where am i know? almost a year into writing my great novel, and only 5 and ahalf chapters deep, i was writing my fetus comic too, i used to have a fire, and now its gone. i must find it, i think thats what is causing my mood as of late. the week trip to the cottage took my mind off the problem, but coming home again just made it hit me harder. Maybe im not a writer anymore, maybe i was. maybe i just have to wait. but where am i now if im not a writer, ive been hanging onto that identity for a year, i was a musician too, not anymore. the drive is gone, the dream is over. its this acceptance of it which makes it worse. i dont know how else i can explain it, my friends in school, even if they dont know what they are doing yet, they are walking on some path. i shudder to think that i have made the wrong choice. i wont sulk here, i just have to get back up on my feet, how to do that is the problem, i cant fight for an identity that was never meant to be mine. thats the first thing i have to find out. im going to live |
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