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Only Happy When It's Sunny...
Jun. 7th, 2004 10:07 amThe only thing holding me to England is my boyfriend. He has just been accepted to two schools, St. Martin's and Goldsmith's, for his Masters in Fine Arts. It means another year or two in England for him, and consequently for me too.
I feel torn by this. I've travelled all my life, been moved to countries across the globe by my family and my studies and I'm not used to staying in one place for long anymore. Also, I don't feel like London or Britain has anything to offer me. I'm not learning anything new and I'm not inspired to chase after a "career" here. I stay because I want to be with him, and I want to support him... but this also means giving up something in my life.
Actually, the problem seems to be that I don't know what to do with my life. A nagging part of my brain tells me that I just want to run away - and keep running away everytime that feeling of shallowness and hopelessness surfaces. Another part of that same Librian brain says that my chances of finding a fulfilling life in another country are bound to be high. The more you see of the world, the wiser you become - or so they say.
A few years ago I convinced myself I was a writer, that out of all activities in the world writing was the one I enjoyed the most. I decided to spend all of my energy (when not busy working to pay the bills) writing fiction. It now seems like I placed all of my casino chips on a hobbie, not on a proper fulfilling activity. To actually be a decent writer you must know the world through other experiences - the best writers, in my opinion, seem to be men and women who are experts in other fields of knowledge. They take that expertize and mix it with their love of literature. I look back at these last two years and I wonder how much I have grown as a human being for now knowing how to use Excel or Word more professionally.
I wish to be inspired by the choices other people have made. I wish for inspiration to strike me here in Britain, make me oblivious of the setting and focused on the "creating". I even have a friend (who used to be my psychologist in Brazil) who only decided to follow her career in Psychology when she was in her 40s... so not all is lost. Still, I don't like the feeling that my life is sliding by, that I have great potential (because I know I do) but it's not being put to good use.
Edit: I've edited this post a fair bit... just goes to show that even within my thoughts I'm unsure of what exactly I want to say.
I feel torn by this. I've travelled all my life, been moved to countries across the globe by my family and my studies and I'm not used to staying in one place for long anymore. Also, I don't feel like London or Britain has anything to offer me. I'm not learning anything new and I'm not inspired to chase after a "career" here. I stay because I want to be with him, and I want to support him... but this also means giving up something in my life.
Actually, the problem seems to be that I don't know what to do with my life. A nagging part of my brain tells me that I just want to run away - and keep running away everytime that feeling of shallowness and hopelessness surfaces. Another part of that same Librian brain says that my chances of finding a fulfilling life in another country are bound to be high. The more you see of the world, the wiser you become - or so they say.
A few years ago I convinced myself I was a writer, that out of all activities in the world writing was the one I enjoyed the most. I decided to spend all of my energy (when not busy working to pay the bills) writing fiction. It now seems like I placed all of my casino chips on a hobbie, not on a proper fulfilling activity. To actually be a decent writer you must know the world through other experiences - the best writers, in my opinion, seem to be men and women who are experts in other fields of knowledge. They take that expertize and mix it with their love of literature. I look back at these last two years and I wonder how much I have grown as a human being for now knowing how to use Excel or Word more professionally.
I wish to be inspired by the choices other people have made. I wish for inspiration to strike me here in Britain, make me oblivious of the setting and focused on the "creating". I even have a friend (who used to be my psychologist in Brazil) who only decided to follow her career in Psychology when she was in her 40s... so not all is lost. Still, I don't like the feeling that my life is sliding by, that I have great potential (because I know I do) but it's not being put to good use.
Edit: I've edited this post a fair bit... just goes to show that even within my thoughts I'm unsure of what exactly I want to say.
