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I wish I could do away with Envy.
I feel it so damn often. It gets in the way of me trying to dig myself out of the life I blundered into. I wandered about only to realize too late that a cave-in has sealed me in here. So, here I am, playing music and writing not one but two novels. I'm a fool. I couldn't just keep up on the one. The second was crying to be born too loudly to ignore and now I'm trying to keep focused on all of it.
I know this girl Elle. She's the stereotype of the short, slight, Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope given flesh. Pink hair, hipster glasses and an absolute certainty that her off-putting and frenetic habits are what everyone wants to see. She's the kind of person who will look down her nose at you for not listening to X Indie Band composed of a ukulele and an out-of-breath singer or having read X Indie Novella that even the most pretentious Liberal Arts program would call tasteless. She's so many frustrating qualities that I could throttle her to death.
But she's free.
The other day I'm on facebook reading a self-indulgent, three-paragraph-length status update about how she quit her job because it was "bringing her down, man" and decided to leave her mother's house with a suitcase and a prayer and hop a train to a different city.
I was so furious with envy that, had she been in the room with me, I would have killed her.
Feeling this way makes me really think I'm pathetic and I'll never escape the underground of debt I foolishly buried myself in while I'm still young enough for it to matter.
Twenty-four years old and growing older by the day. How old is old anymore?
Fuck.
I feel it so damn often. It gets in the way of me trying to dig myself out of the life I blundered into. I wandered about only to realize too late that a cave-in has sealed me in here. So, here I am, playing music and writing not one but two novels. I'm a fool. I couldn't just keep up on the one. The second was crying to be born too loudly to ignore and now I'm trying to keep focused on all of it.
I know this girl Elle. She's the stereotype of the short, slight, Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope given flesh. Pink hair, hipster glasses and an absolute certainty that her off-putting and frenetic habits are what everyone wants to see. She's the kind of person who will look down her nose at you for not listening to X Indie Band composed of a ukulele and an out-of-breath singer or having read X Indie Novella that even the most pretentious Liberal Arts program would call tasteless. She's so many frustrating qualities that I could throttle her to death.
But she's free.
The other day I'm on facebook reading a self-indulgent, three-paragraph-length status update about how she quit her job because it was "bringing her down, man" and decided to leave her mother's house with a suitcase and a prayer and hop a train to a different city.
I was so furious with envy that, had she been in the room with me, I would have killed her.
Feeling this way makes me really think I'm pathetic and I'll never escape the underground of debt I foolishly buried myself in while I'm still young enough for it to matter.
Twenty-four years old and growing older by the day. How old is old anymore?
Fuck.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 03:25 am (UTC)From:I've done the spontaneous move to a new city several times now.
I wouldn't say I regret the moves. I learned a lot and for the most part made peace with my jealousy. But there are still times when I hear "oh so and so ran off and did this" and get jealous before remembering that I'd already done it as well. Insecurity is a bitch, I guess.
One of the things I'd hoped to accomplish with my moves was a rededication to my goal of life as an artist.... that didn't really happen, and it's something I'm still working on. So I'd say if you are managing to write and play music even if you're stuck in a bit of a rut, you are successful in your own way.
I hope this cheers you up. I might just be rambling.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 01:28 pm (UTC)From:The problem I think is that I have this Peter Pan issue where I feel like I didn't have enough adventures in my life and I need more. I guess the only options are for me to try to have them anyway, in any form I can, or try and get over it.
I'll try and choose the former each time but it's easier said than done.
Either way is better than constantly brooding about it, though. Right?