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.