Cycles | Blog
This is going to be a random post, i’m just going to type as it coms to me because i felt the urge to post something but didn’t know how to structure it.
It’s the 16th of April as i type this. And today i decided to take the day off, to stay away from the internet, though i’m writing this using my browser and wordpress, so please forgive the hypocrisy.
I’m sitting on my sofa next to my open window on a mild spring day in London. My blinds are down and closed my lights are off and i’m sitting in a semi-dark.
Last night (15th) i started to break down, unable to continue to carry the weight of bullshit that is my life, for the first time since i was 16 i cried. I went down stairs to make a cup of tea and while the kettle was boiling i sat down on the kitchen floor next to one of my sisters dogs, shortly after i realised i was crying, and i had no idea why. Not consciously anyway.
After i returned to my room i wondered Why?
I’ve been in love once in my life, back in 2004/5. You know that feeling of emptiness when the one you love isn’t around. Well i feel that right now, a sense of loss and pain, misery and heartbreak. I honestly don’t know what to do with myself. And as of right now (12:13pm), i eaten ten chicken goujons, two days ago (14th). I neither feel hungry or want food, i feel like if i eat anything i’ll either waste it or be sick. I don’t know, maybe i’m being mellow dramatic.
My life has been an average one from birth. I’m average height average weight i have average looks, and lead a typically average life. We can measure ourselves based on how we deal with the consequences of the decisions we make, right?
A dog has been barking for about 30 minutes none stop and it’s driving me fucking crazy.
Where was i…
Over the years i’ve made a lot of decisions, like everyone else, decisions that affected my life and how it paned out. Sometimes my decision was interrupted by an outside force that prevented me from following through and getting somewhere, but most of the time, this is how it feels anyway, i’ve made the wrong decision.
There is a lot of noise around here today, even with my fucking window closed i can here that dogs barking people banging and kids screaming.
It feels like my life is just an endless stream of bad choices and those bad choices have lead me to sit on my sofa and type this blog.
Where am i?
I’m at home, sitting on my sofa bed, in the house i grow up in. I’m 37 years old, i live with my sister and her three kids (two at 19. One at 10), two dogs and my mother. Do i think this is my fault?
Yes. It’s no one else’s fault but mine, because no one has had a bigger impact on my life them me. I made the bad choices and now i’m living with them.
Maybe that’s what life is all about, how bad will you let things get before you;
A: Kill yourself.
B: Succeed in changing it.
Waiting for someone to come along and change it for you is never going to happen to don’t sit there wasting time.
The thing is, you need to know what you want to do. They try to drive this into you at 15, so you can pick the right courses in college so you can set yourself up for a career. A job will will do for the rest of your life.
Seriously, they want us to decide the next 50 years of my life at 15, who are these people. What help did i get?
College teacher: “So what career are you looking to pursue?”
Me: “I want to be an electrician.”
The teacher looks over a list, then another list, and anther list.
CT: “Sorry, but some of those classes are full.”
Me: “What does that mean?”
CT: “You need to choose something else.”
That is the help i got. My choice defeated by another. That is basically the blueprint for every decision i made in the future that someone else screwed up for me.
I blamed him at the time but now i see that he had no choice, he was following someone else’s rules and couldn’t deviate from that, the ever annoying, “I’m just doing my job.”
My bad choices have lead me here, a little over £130 in the bank, in two months my phones (Land line and mobile) will get cut off, i have no job and no prospects, i’m single, and living at home at 37.
My life, right now, is wonderful.
That was sarcasm in case you had a problem reading it.
So, what do i want. My goals.
To be a writer. Self employed.
To own my own home.
To owe nobody anything (money), because i did it on my own.
All this i feel should have been started ten years ago. All my friends did it or are doing it.
Can i write a book: Yes.
Is that book going to be any good: I honestly don’t know. That’s how i feel right now.
It’s like i can’t see it being sold, or a publisher even picking it up so why waste my time writing it, why put in the hours, days weeks, months, years typing away to get nowhere. I’m constantly told that i should give it up and get a proper job, maybe they’re right, maybe i am living in a fantasy world and my life is going to be average, like most other people, working a job i don’t like for not enough money, waiting for the weekend so i can just sit in front of the tele and drink beer, alone. Do i want that life: NO! can i have any other life: no. It’s like my life is on a train track and i can’t change tracks, no matter how much i try to flip the switch and get on another track, it won’t move and i’m stuck here, idling through life at a pace that is slowly going to kill me. I’d rather jump from the train.
I need to evaluate my life. Decide whether it’s worth continuing.
My life and my problems were manufactured by me. I am the reason i’m where i am. My bad choices put me here, it’s like bed choices are a habit i can’t stop.