Nothing's changed...but me >>> (....perhaps...?...?.)

Yesterday I felt so hopeless. I felt...well, yesterday's post kind of captures how I felt without the need for me to repeat it. Today, well today I feel a little better.

A little anyway.

I have been preparing my study materials for HST310, for which I need to complete an assignment el-mucho-quicko-fasto. I also have an assignment for CMM26 this week, although I haven't even touched CMM26 as per yet.

Admittedly, I haven't touched much of anything for this bunch of units accorss the board. That will have to change very quickly.

The other house isn't as hopeless as perhaps I have felt. It is starting to look really good, and while there are still some fiddly (and some more than fiddly) jobs to be done, it is in much better condition than it was, say, a couple of months ago.

And after it is done, things will change. It will be a busy year this year, but not so stupidly busy as it has been the last few months. On campus studies will be busy. Off campus studies will be busy. Church commitments will be busy. V. will be busy. Family life will be busy. However, it should not all be insurmountable.

Financially, we are struggling seeing as the house has gone on for so long, but in other ways we are not so bad as we were recently. So, I guess things are looking up.

Or perhaps I am just looking up. I don't know. I still feel not so good, but than again, I also feel not so bad. There is always hope, and now that I have started on HST310 it doesn't seem so bad, although there is still plenty of things that can go wrong....

Oh well....

Nowhere

How do I feel?

That is not really the question. The question is more, who do I feel like?

Well, at the moment, I don't feel like a writer. Then again, I don't feel like a student either. I don't feel like a builder, or tiler, or whatever. I don't feel like much of anything at all. I guess I feel like a failure. Moreso, I feel lost, or stuck in the middle of nowhere, going nowhere, the scenery never changing, no-one, nothing, emptiness... What is the point in crying out? What is the point in struggling on? What is the point in trying to be something?

But I guess I will.

I am sitting here, and Amelie is playing in the background - the superfluous piano music as Amelie skips stones on the Mont-Marte canal - and I feel the tears in my eyes (although, of course, there are none, but there is the feeling of wanting to cry for the beauty of it) and I know that I cannot stay here, wherever I am. I have to keep going if I am to get out of this emptiness.

I don't want to be a builder, or a tiler, or whatever.

I don't want to be a student (although I also don't think I ever want to stop being one either).

I want to get my book written, published, and get into the next one. I want to provide for my family in comfort, so that we can comfortably afford the lifestyle that we desire. I want to be able to read books I enjoy, and watch movies that inspire me, and listen to music that makes me feel like this. And I want to be an overcomer and an inspiration to others, most of all my children.

I need to get somewhere. I can't stay nowhere, or I'll go mad.