Life Improves with Shorthand

Following on from my ‘jobless’ post earlier this year, where I stated that I was feeling depressed and unmotivated, I’ve started an NCTJ Journalism Diploma. I’m now three weeks into the course and thoroughly enjoying every minute. Lectures, work experience, writing articles… the whole damn lot!

Shorthand is hard (I’m not going to deny that!). We have a shorthand lecture every morning, whereas others modules are covered by one lecture per week. Shorthand is almost becoming second nature to us. Almost… I mean, I’m still making mistakes here and there, and some symbols are so difficult to write that it’s probably just quicker to write the actual word at this stage.

My Career (or, lack thereof…)

Life – well, it’s boring. Why? Because I’m full of poisonous ‘self-doubt’…

I have no confidence in who I am as a person. It’s the thing that’s always held me back – both in my personal life, and my professional life. I cannot sell myself properly when light-heartedly flirting with women (thus ensuring 23 years without even a whiff of a girlfriend). Okay, maybe “selling” myself is the wrong word or phrase. Maybe what I really mean is that my lack of confidence when flirting stems from my inability to recognise my own personal achievements.

Also, I want as much as anything to write for a newspaper or magazine as my full-time job. But that’s just it – a JOB. I haven’t got one yet. Since finishing my university degree in June 2014, I haven’t even been motivated towards getting a job. Yes, I’ve sent out a few applications and been to a couple of interviews, but I have other interests too, like volunteering for CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale).

What I’ve done, is I’ve tried to ignore this indoctrinated expectation that when you graduate, you must then immediately get a job and start earning your way in life. I want to do that, and believe me, I do! But I also don’t want to be pressured into anything I don’t feel comfortable with.

Unfortunately, I feel this has now gone too far, and as a result of my volunteering for CAMRA and thoroughly enjoying it, I now feel left out – seeing my mates get a job straight out of university has made me feel depressed, and I’ve now lost all motivation to do even the simple task of getting out of bed every day so that I may complete yet another application to some godforsaken company to earn a wage.

I was over the moon (quite literally) when I learned that I had graduated from my English Literature degree with a Grade 2:2 Bachelor of Arts with Honours, but I am now facing the music and the harsh reality when it comes to job applications – in the real world, a 2:2 is just unacceptable.

According to all these employers, a minimum of a 2:1 is expected, as stated within the job descriptions… BUT I’m now getting sick of seeing “Minimum 2:1 expected/obtained degree in any discipline” – supposedly, a 2:2 (as in my case) means you’re thick, unmotivated, and not worthy enough for a position at their company. Even though “worthy” accounts for the latter half of my surname!

That’s why I’m stuck writing this blog, and volunteering for CAMRA, and writing articles for a beer magazine on a voluntary basis, and living off my parents’ retirement pensions until I can get a job of my own…

That’s not to say there aren’t ANY jobs out there – there are loads of jobs if you know where to look. I suppose I’ve just set my sights too high. I don’t see the point of working at the local supermarket with all the high-school dropouts I used to see on a daily basis at age 16. I’m now 23. If I worked there, I’m afraid that I’d then have no justification for going to university, enjoying life, studying a subject I enjoy, and accruing £20,000+ of student debts in my name.

But the more I send out applications and receive an email starting “on this occasion your application has been unsuccessful”, and the more time that passes, I get to thinking that it’s the hard life or no life at all…

ITFC signing #1

Confirmation that Tommy Smith has agreed to stay at Portman Road until 2016 #ITFC instagram.com/p/Zp14QLEZsB/
— Ipswich Town FC (@Official_ITFC) May 23, 2013

Poetry anthology is coming along nicely

Hopefully, if everything goes to plan, I'll have a couple more quotes for printing services for the yet unpublished dedication to James, The Poet-Tree: Digging for the Truth. It is an anthology showcasing all our poetry talents, and it seems fitting to publish it now, a year on from the sad departure of our friend James.

It was supposed to be published last year, but as I was the sole contributor and chief editor, things got put on-hold while I got my life sorted out again.

Now, if my university still wants to contribute financially towards the publication, then I will gladly go to the printers and order about 200 copies. If not, then I have considered the possibility of selling it online as an e-book. We shall have to wait and see...

I am an unknown conscious being in the present, recovering from a life lost in the past...

Courage is not something I've had for the past year, and it's only now that I'm starting to feel better. Only now am I re-discovering my Inner Smile, and every day is like a rollercoaster. There was one girl who I must thank for lifting me off my feet, if only for a short while...


Thing is, it didn't last long as I was not ready for a whole bunch of new emotions, on top of losing my grandma, who was like a 2nd mother to me. I haven't embarked on any serious relationships since then.

I don't often 'hate' anything. In fact, I'm hardly offended by anything. I've been called so many names by so many bullies, I don't think there's any more words left in the Oxford English Dictionary that people could use against me. But silence seems to be the new form of bullying, or that's the treatment I've been getting anyway. Maybe its because I pushed people away last year, but still, I feel like I can't talk anymore to my classmates. I'm at the bottom of the pile again, back at square one, waiting for the opportunity...

The day after my grandma's funeral, one of my best mates died. Unfortunately, since then, whenever I've been in conversation, the hurt and the sadness that I have felt for my grandma doesn't seem to matter? For the last year there has been a gaping hole in my life where she once was... but apparently I'm missing the point?

Maybe it has something to do with me not showing up at the funeral for our mate, but I remember on that morning I was dressed up in my suit, shoes polished and gleaming, and I got to the door... but I just couldn't go. I felt light-headed. I was still recovering from my grandma's death. I had 3 essays due in the following week. And I had to deal with a mate's death as well.

I'm sorry if I've hurt anyone. If I led you on, then I'm sorry for that.

Erm, forgive and forget?

Perspectives

'What I am' is a question that everyone should stop and ask themselves once in a while. Literally, drop everything (as long as it's not a baby you're holding) and observe your life. What is it about your life which seems to follow you in the form of shadows? Is it a feeling, or is it a person?

Having sat through three or four Autobiography lectures on Virginia Woolf (her 'Moments of Being'), I have to look at my life and wonder whether it's worth living? My life is a jumbled-up mess of ups and downs. There seems to be no correlation from one week to the next. One week I'm happy, the next I'm sad.

Something that's just happened, and the main reason for my blog transforming from work-exhibition into a personal thoughts showcase, is the one-year anniversary of my grandma's death. It was on 19 April 2012 that she left this life and embarked on another, and sometimes I sort of know that she's in the room with me, that she's always there whenever I need her... in my heart.

CK.

Scriptwriting: 'Shadows Lurk' (My Script)

Recently I was writing a script as part of my essay, and went to an arts lecture where a writer came in to talk about islands as prisons. I left the lecture feeling inspired by one of his stories, which led me to write a back-story for the script of a Film Noir thriller, including a murder and a string of conspiracies that leads the detective to a harrowing truth.

Not only did I end up writing a script that I was happy with, but I had the chance to speak to a real author about storylines and plot directions, which in itself made me a better writer. His advice led me away from many of the amateurish mistakes I could have made, such as over-complicating the plot. I also had the chance to speak with a local theatre company regarding my script, and learnt about the responsibility of the playwright to the actors, and vice versa. Without taking on board the advice from the author, the theatre, and most importantly my lecturer, and then redrafting my script, I probably would have made a huge error that would have resulted in a fail.