The Writer’s Life

Well, I am still in purgatory, the abyss, whatever it is you want to call it. I am there. I’ve gotten quite used to the continual destruction of the houses of cards I try to build. I guess being stuck in the vortex of suffering has become normal.

I accept that I won’t ever have a life where I worry about which charities to donate to because I’ll never make enough money to get myself out of the poor house. I’m not beating myself up and I’m not asking for help nor anything else.

I accept that I am mediocre and that I just don’t have the bravery it takes to make something of myself. I’m not young, not cute nor a minority. I am too short and too skinny to be a plus sized model. I am living a life of okness. Something that will never expand into gloriousness. I’m ok with that. I’m ok with the fact that I was born into a class that is dismissed and minimized and marginalized.

There are those photos of starving African children with the tagline “Remember to be thankful because there are plenty of people in the world who would willing swap places with you.” (Sure I’ll swap places with them. Seriously, I would)  Or how about the song Isn’t it Ironic.

For me, I guess it’s ironic that I lived the life I was supposed to live. I didn’t party in high school. I didn’t do drugs. I followed the rules and I went to college; got a college degree. I did everything I supposed to do. I was promised that I would be rewarded. I guess I was rewarded with bad luck.

The thing that ticks me off is that I was good despite having had to go through some difficult things (Read tenth paragraph). I didn’t lash out; I shook it off and I got back up. However, I never lived. I’m too afraid to live. I’m mortified of making mistakes and of being wrong. I am incapacitated by the fear that my best just isn’t good enough. I am certain I am not talented at anything.

For all of my studying and hard work, for the piece of paper I got saying I have a Bachelor of Arts I am living in poverty. Honestly, if I hadn’t gone to college I wouldn’t have a mountain of debt. I would have had four years to try my hand at different things. I could have explored the world. For all of this writing, I’ve written nothing. I am quite certain I cannot achieve anything. Every time I put myself out there Re: try, I get back negative feedback. Sorry there, chickie, we just can’t pay you more. Sorry there, chickie, you followed the rules so we’re going to take your money and make you feel like you are worthless (Government & taxes). Oh, if you were stupid and lazy then we’d pay you. If you took advantage of your disabilities (if you were dishonest) and the injuries you sustained we’d pay you. Oh and if you had a kid or two we’d pay you.

I know, I know. I’m rambling. Oh, and even more than that I joined AWAI (it supposed to help you become a financially free copywriter that gets to set their own schedule). It’s all marketing smarketing and I shouldn’t have spent the $49 dollars for it since I’m now without hay for my horses.  Re: Truck had to get a new water pump & I had to pay $500 for it. Oh and Truck also had bent hinges etc. Therefore I, retail employee, had to spend my board money on my truck. Re: I don’t have food for myself nor for my horses.

Re: Happy Holidays

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