It is a rainy morning, but still hot. I am at the library looking out at the big windows.
I woke up incredibly sad this morning.
Stuff I'm still processing, maybe.
Or maybe I'm stuck in processing. Always thinking, never doing.
I don't know.
I'm stuck with the knowledge that this is not the life I want.
But also with the desire to say yes to the world as it is.
To change what I can and to love the rest of it.
I am afraid of change though. I know too well how often I end up choosing the lateral or downward path.
I keep telling myself I am just taking the scenic route towards all those big societal benchmarks, but I know I am lost.
I'm not too great at capitalism, social hierarchies, or even self-care and survival.
I am here at the library to do some work on a freelance job that I have been in negotiations for since May. It's a big research assistant job for a guy working on his memoir. It's supposed to last for over a year while he writes.
I was very excited about the prospect. It's researching topics that I already love and know a lot about. That's why I was approached for it.
I was asked to give my price. I underbid because I wanted the job. I was offered less than 1/5th of what I asked for.
And I said yes. Because I just want to do this kind of work.
It might cost me money in the long run, and it's definitely keeping me from pursuing other projects now. It has hurt whatever little professional ego I have left. It will pay maybe one of my bills. The author I'm working with is a bit of a prick that I feel will try to not pay me at all.
But God damn it, I just want to do this kind of work.
I am mostly fine with how poor I am. Though it does wear on you after a bit.
Having no access to a doctor despite having a genetic disease that is eating away at my spine is a bit of a bummer after the first decade or so.
I am mostly fine with having little social support. I have few friends and most of them are online. I pour my heart out to you, Diaryland. I am thankful to have a place to do it.
But I so often feel invisible. Like I don't matter.
That all my striving and searching and self-discovery have all been for nothing.
It won't be like this forever, right?
I look to the horizon for some distant hope.
I walk forward one weary step at a time.
10:41 a.m. - 2022-07-08
Recent entries:
Still Unbroken Up - 2022-09-20
Pray for Rain, Dig a Well - 2022-08-29
The Things That Can Only be Whispered in Darkness - 2022-08-16
Lot of feelings, lack of words - 2022-08-09
Samsara - 2022-07-23
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