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existentialism and the art of authors
I've been rather ill lately, suffering migraines or what-have-you for the past 3-ish years (3 times a week), and I've been a bit crook over the past week with continual visual migraines (twice daily), so forgive me for my maudlin wanderings.  They've been rather debilitating and with the amount of times they hit, they're making me feel rather... down.  Drugs don't seem to help.

I've been reading a bit, and being a bit crook, and had  few thoughts.

My mum told me that life is like building a book or a movie.  We choose the life that's interesting to each of us personally.  Now mine has been interesting.  I've done a lot of things, but I've never built up a proper work thingy.  I've dabbled in a lot of things but never taken it to the next level and done it.  I've been interested in pharmacology, databases, BBSes, I've done Cobbling, knitting, crafts, engraving, key cutting, watch fixing, but I've never made it into what I am.

I was never able to have a family, never able to get into programming, never being the perfect me I could be.

What story have I written?  As far as I can tell, I'm a good second to someone else's story.  Is that what it's about?  Is it about making your own story and running with it hoping it's a best seller or being the 'wind beneath someone else's wings' and living with the anonymity?  

I read a lot of internet stories about people who comes to the fore and is a hero to someone and changes their lives.  I like that idea.  Am I that person?  I know I'm not the sort to wander around making changes without notice.  That doesn't interest me. What the hell is my story?!

I feel in a rut.  I don't know what to do.  Any job I think of I can't make fit into the idea of what I'd like.  I'd like to be a mover and shaker, but there's no such job description.  I'm feeling a bit lost.  I've done things in my many jobs that have probably changed lives, but I don't see how, looking back.  How can this change?!

I keep thinking of the 'next  best thing' to come along and change the world, and I'd dearly love to be part of it, but it's not out there, or I can't see how I would fit.  What do I do?

An I just kidding myself?  Is the world so big that I don't fit and never will?

I keep imagining a time that will be just for me, but as I get older (I'm getting old) I see it slipping away.  

Is this it?  Am I over the hill now?  Is this it?!  Do I just lie down and die and wait for the next life to do something meaningful?  

I think of when the board started and we all had such potential.  Most of us were either unemployed, starting out or too young to care.  I see you all in amazing jobs, with families and in countries I wouldn't have dreamed of, and I'm jealous.  I thought I had that potential.  I wanted to run Teletext.  I wanted to do so many things.  I'm just... here.  Where I was before.

I grieve for the person I could have become, but I know that I didn't have it in me then. I thought I had time, but it slipped away.  What was I waiting for?  What the hell am I waiting for now?  I think it may be too late.  Dear god I hope It's not too late.

I'm a bloody good knitter though.
one can't pick the historic period one is born into...

one can not pick the class location of our parents...

late capitalism is driven by propaganda about 'succeeding'...

life is a struggle...

struggle on...

don't self judge yourself by a 'job'...

have you been loved? loved others? have some friends that you can rely on? hope so!!!

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