Being useless at life is all I’m good at.
Once again, faced with confrontation, I flew. After trying to prove to myself and others that I could really make a go of this, I messed up. Instead of facing it head on, I ran out of arguments and just quit. I got out of there. There are far more mature ways that I could dealt with the whole situation. But after trying that for six years in a previous job, and it never bringing anything worthwhile, what was the point this time? I’m sure I’m not the first person to have ever walked either. I’m certain that I’m not the first person to have walked and gone straight to the pub and spent the rest of the day drinking cocktails whilst dancing to 90s pop with my newest friends. That was fun though. And life’s about creating those memories isn’t it? When you look at how much of an insignificant amount of time we are all here in the universe?
But why can’t I just stick at normal jobs? Am I meant to just go off a live life as a travelling hobo, never settling down and never having anything to show for the years spent breathing in the air? I can’t even store away ancedotes to dine out on for however long. I don’t care for massive friendship groups. Will I just end up being sectioned, spend life in prisons and secure hospitals, to then just be left to rot in some home. I certainly don’t want that, but it seems like my own option that suits my personality right now.
I am totally useless at life.
I cannot do half the things a normal grown up is meant to be able to do. In my twenty odd years, I’ve nothing really academic to show for myself. Apart from a few books of very little literature value, read just to keep my mind ticking or to take me away from the realities of the every day. Maybe I think that my life should be like one of these chick lit books? That I’m just going to end up fine. Hahahaha. But I know it won’t.
What I really want to do right now is take a degree in writing or something literature based. All my life, it’s been drama that I’ve wanted to study, but I just don’t think I have the self esteem for that anymore. My self confidence is bashed to pieces thanks to various life experiences,
I want to learn how to write an essay and write one well. I want to do a dissertation and come away with a proper qualification. So that I don’t have to overlook so many job applications because they want graduates only.
I want to be as sucessful as Lisa Jardine, who after listening to her on ‘Desert Island Discs’ last month, I can say without a doubt she is a true inspiration. Sure, I wasn’t born with half the privileges she was born with but that doesn’t matter. Does it? She just worked hard doing something she loved. Surely that’s all I need to do?
I just wish I could see a way out right now. I can see that within a month, I’ll probably be homeless, job less and unable to claim any sort of help from the welfare state because I messed up. Shame I ruined my singing voice by smoking, I won’t even be able to busk.
Gah. Pass me the gin.