Forever a Writer

I was thinking recently, what job I'd like to do - not just for the short term, but for life. I've been applying for a few copywriting jobs in London, hoping that I can turn one of my passions into a career.

Since the age of 11 or 12, I've enjoyed writing fiction. I used to write about the things that aren't real in my life, that I wish were real. Now, I write blogs, and stories, and poems, and basically anything... because it makes me feel good about myself.

The story content may have changed and developed and become more detailed, but the writer is the same person. Peel back the layers, and the memories, the failed friendships, a failed relationship, and focus on the genuine joy I get from putting pen to paper, and I'm still the same person.

On these blogs, I have no face, next to no identity, and, thankfully, the peace of mind that I can write my thoughts, and feelings, and musings, without the fear that someone close to me is going to notice, or take offence.

I enjoy writing, but apart from my blogs, most of my writing has never seen another pair of eyes.

Mostly, because I've never wanted to be that open about myself.

I'd love for someone to read my work at some point, but maybe not. I'm not scared of criticism, but I also remember how people treated me years ago, how they bullied me, and how everything I did was rubbish, and crap, and pointless.

If I opened up my stories to others, even my parents and closest friends, I fear that would give people an excuse, and all the ammunition they would ever need, to shoot me down again.

April Fool

Not much has changed since my last post back in October, 2017. I met up twice with mates recently in London, both for someone's birthday.

I have had a couple of spells of illness, though:
-I partially fractured my foot just simply by walking while on holiday in August, which required months of physiotherapy, right up to the beginning of December.
-Following that, I had a health scare, that turned out to be not as serious as I'd thought. Despite various tests at my doctors, and at hospital (urine test, ultrasound, blood test; a urology test, then another ultrasound), nothing was found and I was discharged. It was probably just a kidney stone or something that passed on its own.

So, yeah, not much has changed. I'm still me, still jobless, still without direction. Still wandering hopelessly into the stark abyss...

Every Day I Fight Against Me: Poem

I originally penned this poem on Tuesday 6 December 2016. I edited this second draft and final copy, on Thursday 12 October 2017, at 1:30am. The longer I've held off posting this poem, the more truthful it's become:

Every day I fight.
I fight the feeling
that I'm not good enough.
I fight the truthful devil perched
on my shoulder who
bullies me every day.
He tells me I'm
not good enough,
never will be.
He says that me being alive
is my greatest sin.

I fight my wishes,
dreams and ambitions.
I'm not good enough
or deserving enough
or worthy enough.

I fight against progress.
I fight against my strengths.
I fight myself.

And all the while
I wear a smile
to protect my secrets.
I wear a smile
to avoid reality.
I wear a smile
because
it's easier
than accepting
who I am, who I've
always been.

I wear a mask that
hides my true self
because,
if the real me
ever saw daylight,
I'm frightened
people won't like him.
They'll laugh at him,
call him names.

They'll make it
hard for him
to live like
a 'normal' person.
They'll make it
hard for him
to fit in.
They'll mock him
when he tries harder
than everyone else
to be friendly and
appeal to others.

They'll mock him
for trying
to ask out the
Girl of his Dreams,
and make jokes
as he fails at flirting.
They'll laugh because
he's single,
and reside to torts
about him being gay.
They'll torture him
for his unwanted virginity.
They'll laugh endlessly
because it's easier.

I'm scared about
The Future.
That one day,
he'll get so low
that his brains
end up splattered
across train tracks.

And if he ever did pass,
I'm scared they
won't miss him
because
they never really
knew him
to begin with.
All they
really knew
was his mask:
me.

Off the beaten track (Dec 2016)

I've gotten into a bit of a rut recently. I know what I need to do to succeed, but I can't find the motivation to get it done.

I guess it's like knowing the way to some place on a map, but lacking the tools (compass) or knowledge (motivation, in this case) to get there.

I've recently been able to flex my mind a little in the run up to the end of my phone contract. I've been learning all about phone tech, and enjoying learning new things. I hope what I've learnt can be used in my future career as a journalist, either for blogging purposes or for reviews and articles.

But I can't help thinking that, aside from learning new things, I'm just putting my life on hold and hoping things get better without my saying so. And I know things will get worse unless I act now.

See, my problem is I don't think I'm good enough. I probably am, considering all I'm really going to do to launch my career (and, simultaneously, life) is work experience.

But I just don't feel like I'm good enough - even to be a trainee at a local newspaper. The more I tell myself that I'm not good enough, I start to doubt myself even more. And now I've dug a hole so big, I'm not even sure there's a way back up to the surface.

I just don't seem to be able to 'act now' or react to the rut (the sad, sad hole I've dug myself) to powerfully enough to get back to normal, whatever normal is!

Hopefully I'll find my way back onto the main road of life, and back on track with my career. That is, if it isn't already too late...

Thoughts

I have all of my best thoughts right before I turn my phone off and drift off to sleep. It always tends to be at around 6am as a new day dawns.

But when I arise from my bed, I am not as positive as when I went to sleep. I think negative thoughts. I breathe negativity. I am negativity.

I always wonder, just before I put my phone down and bury my head in my pillow, if someone out there is feeling the same way as me, but I guess that's one of the pitfalls of depression - I'll remind myself that nobody else feels this way and that I'm all alone.

And as I start my day, right up until that morning cup of tea, I'll make the process of getting out of bed as long as possible. Much longer than it needs to be. I keep putting off the action of getting up, as if staying in bed longer means I don't have to face those issues. That staying in bed means I might drift off back to sleep and then I won't have to deal with those issues. With life itself.

The are just idol thoughts in my happy time, before I drift off to sleep as others awake and go off to work. I just thought I'd write them down so that, when I awake later this morning/afternoon, I can read them back and realise that I'm still the same person. I'm the same person that went to sleep happy.

So, why is it that I feel different, more tired, and less energetic, than when I went to sleep before? It just doesn't make any sense. It's not rational. It's not normal. It's not healthy. It's not anything, but it is everything negative.

Spam tagging - a [now] commonplace annoyance,

Spam tagging. Just don't. I don't mind mates tagging me in things and banter etc. but tagging me and using my account, without my permission, to earn followers, is unacceptable.

Social media, whether it's Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or any other network, is supposed to be there to be enjoyed, not avoided for fear of being spammed every five minutes!

I tend to keep my followers, likes and email subscriptions down to a minimum for this very reason, so that I'm not bombarded with notifications and important stories every time I log in.

I realise that this has the effect of making me look like a misinformed, boring fart with no interests. But how else are you supposed to manage and organise your social media accounts?

I've also been setting up multiple accounts since September 2015 to handle the volume of traffic if it's unavoidable. I now have 2 accounts on every site - a personal account just for me, and the account that I'm proud of and that is also a statement about who I am if employers are looking me up.

But multiple accounts leads to people demanding access (by way of friends and followers) to your personal account because otherwise, if they've only got access to your professional account, they're not communicating with the 'real' you. And for some, they want that access - because otherwise their trust in you means nothing.

A place to be free: what is the purpose of this blog?

As I've already mentioned in an earlier post, I've kept this blog as an aside for my own personal ramblings. You see, it just wouldn't be a good idea to mix these personal ramblings with news content on either my WordPress blog or my news website.

I use my WordPress blog to share and discuss my opinions on news stories, both locally and internationally, and sharing those opinions via a blog is something that is encouraged in all Journalists these days.

My news website, however, is an online news portfolio and a home for all news stories written by myself on a freelance basis.

This blog therefore acts as a diary...

It is a place where I really can set my mind free.

A place every I don't have to adhere to the restrictions of society.

A place where I can go to think about my life and insecurities.

A place where I can set my mind at ease.

A place where I can express how I really feel without having to be careful to not post anything which may offend or hurt someone close to me.

A haven for my mind.