It’s been several months since my last blog post. That in itself is somewhat of a confession. It’s hard enough getting out of bed some days, let alone writing. In these past several months I’ve come up with topics to write about, I just haven’t done it. This blog is almost like a diary. This is pretty much me trying to find things that make me happy. They say that traveling can make a person happy and if they go places they just end up back where they started. Often times people go and return to where they started, but is it really where they started if they have a new outlook on life? This reminds me of a movie I watched recently with Simon Pegg called, “Hector and the Search for Happiness”. He goes through several places whereby also going through stages in his life trying to find the meaning of happiness. Two points that he made that I remember in particular are avoiding unhappiness is not the road to happiness, or something to that affect, and listening is loving.
I think people have to go through a period of unhappiness to get to happiness. It can’t just happen. That’s kind of what it said in the movie. This is how our experiences shape who we become. Even if it can get depressing at times. This is me trying to figure out my place in the world. I’ve always thought I would do something great like some sort of work for the UN helping displaced peoples, but instead I’m stuck at home because people think I can’t handle taking care of myself. I try to tell myself that if I write, it will get better, but I’m not always so sure. What I really want to do is work for this organization that specializes in helping kids with disabilities from foreign countries. I know for the fact I have the qualifications for it, only it’s thousands of miles away. Therein comes the listening part. I honestly feel like there are two kinds of people in my life: those that make me do so much, acting like I don’t have a disability to the point where I’m treated like a slave and those that don’t let me do anything at all to the point where I feel like I’m treated as though I’m physically incapable of doing anything. Maybe the key to happiness is not listening, but observing. Observing leads to accepting. At this point I’m being required to just settle in a place where I am. I’ve been told to think of it as a blessing. That’s easier said than done.
I found out that the organization I wanna work for has a job opening, but as usual I’m too afraid to apply. I’m afraid that I’ll apply and get it and then not be able to go. If I could get this job, my life would be complete. I would be on my way to saving the world. Part of traveling is trying to figure out who you are and where your place in this world is. Not many people I know contemplate what their destiny is. This is quite unfortunate for people my age. Mainly for me because that means people to talk to about my lack of a job because I’m too stubborn to apply for anything else-are seriously out of my reach.
The point of writing is to immerse yourself in a world that’s not your reality. Or at least that’s how I see writing. I could come up with a pretty kick-ass story about a girl who time travels. If I just finish my degree I can have more time for story writing. I’ve decided I should probably start with short stories rather than a novel. I’ve decided that Jane Austin is one of my influences. She wrote about happy endings even if she didn’t have one. I really don’t even want to announce my writing ideas to any one for fear of them getting shut down. At this point I want to use my writing to fix the world as well as create a world for myself that I can live in.