Young man's struggle with money, women and literature. |
The volitility of my emotional state is now just a welcome mode of living. Its always happened, fluctuations between intense happiness and depression that seems to create some intangible weight in my guts that brings me closer to the ground (seriously, I kept hitting the deck last night with comical moans of anxiety and frustration). I know now and can feel now this control to move on and look to my life after university. Its coming, and coming fast. I think I was in some state of delusion about my future as an academic. Of course I would love to stay at university and continue to learn and increase my intellect and maybe someday even have 'Dr.' in front of my name - the kind of name that seems like it should have a 'Dr' in front of it - but I look to the lives of academics as I wander around this library before term and it seems so...closed off. I think its because I have been born in age with so many marketing influences that make me want to spend money and live a life thats going to make me feel so fly like a G6. Of course, if I squint my inner eye I can see how an academic life would make sense; I would have the biggest possible separation from the labourer, utilizing my intellect on a daily basis, with a birds eye view of the world around me and how history has shaped it, with perhaps some insight into what is to come. Mention may have been made in this short blog about my 'poetic genetic'. My father seems to have a way with words, a way that should not be so alive for a retired labourer whose terminology should only have extended to branded spades, the brute force of brick lifting and conversion. Its probably best if I look to a practical means of living that will be somewhere in the middle classes of making a comfortable living and perhaps even finding a way out of England. -- This is the stage in writing a blog entry where I realise I don't much of a direction and want to leave -- I am not going to bail out so quickly this time. The reality of my future is quite dim; I lack any real experience to find my way into a real job, especially with a rather broad degree and little work experience that is going to get me in a good position during an interview. I am pretty screwed, all I know is, is that if/when I do get a job, I know I'll get really obsessed with it and do my best to excel. Unfortunately it means that I am probably going to neglect other areas of my life. Subject change. I have been asked some many times what kind of music I listen to and I never really have a good answer for the polite questioner. 'I am in to a bit of everything really' It would be better if I had some scripted replies. I remember visiting Brighton for a night out and a tournament. The club/bar/mating dance seen fascinates me greatly. Girls are dressed to impress and the guys with sense either push the boundaries with some bold retro look that screams murder about their style and taste that the girls should try out or the males fashion a pinstripe suit. It feels like as soon as I find myself in the real world, the name of the game is going to be 'first to six figures: one, two, three - GO!'. I think I have lost already. Money interests me, ballin' interests me. Maybe its just the inherent male need. I am under some illusion that I will enjoy it one day, for now I just enjoy the fantasies. I am determined to do what I need to do to get it, I just need to be shown the right direction. |