It's been a long gap since my last post which can only mean that life was good. Past tense, take note. I don't like how this has become a 'dear diary...' kind of place where I inject small but steady doses of heartaches. Because I should feel perfectly liberated to pen down things which go great for me, right? So. What made me come back?
Nine months of chambering came to an end in August. I completed the remaining Legal Aid duty days I had. I had quite a bit of fun. Then the highs of unemployment wore off.
I had to write a CV.
Writing it forced me to examine where I was, where I am and where I want to be. And in that process, I realised, I let some very central traits of mine slip away, carried by the tides of wanting to fit in with a world that was not mine, at all. I felt like I had to bury who I was for so long under responsibilities, expectations, projections. Because that is what it took to be taken seriously. It involved a whole lot of sacrifice and I have nothing but respect for those who come out feeling alive, knowing this is their calling.
They say the 9 months is symbolic because that's how long it takes a fetus to fully form. That it was never meant to be easy, and just like a baby being born it is meant to be both transformative and painful. But it's like being born into a legal fraternity.
I waited for this feeling. Maybe I focused on wanting this feeling too much. That's why it never came. When you love what you do, I imagine you feel it from the moment you open your eyelids to get you to work. It is your passion that becomes the driving force. Not an impending fear of scorn, being rejected, or needing to learn that everything you worked so hard for may not be what you're good at. Who wants to open their eyes to that reality, anyway? That they may have wasted, (or will continue to waste) precious time in their lives for some greater good or to prove a point that THEY DUNNITTTT (!!?) *battle music*
So here is my attempt at reviving a part of me I always loved. Writing. I still keep books from my prepubescent days no matter how much it makes me want to gauge my eyeballs out reading the things I thought were the shit. The people I would have given the world for and of course the things I regarded as cool. *Sigh*
Speaking of cool, Lolo Zuai makes ethereal music and I have been falling asleep to her album 'High Highs and Low Lows' for the third consecutive day now. ♥
There is this beautiful French song in there called 'Beaucoup', which translates to 'very much'. (Thank God for DuoLingo!) which is a great song to play at the background of a vintage tinted film documenting a love story. As far as TV Shows go, American Horror Story has created a clusterfuck of existential, religious and sexual crises within this already turbulent mind.
But a turbulent mind.
It appeals to some, don't it?
Nine months of chambering came to an end in August. I completed the remaining Legal Aid duty days I had. I had quite a bit of fun. Then the highs of unemployment wore off.
I had to write a CV.
Writing it forced me to examine where I was, where I am and where I want to be. And in that process, I realised, I let some very central traits of mine slip away, carried by the tides of wanting to fit in with a world that was not mine, at all. I felt like I had to bury who I was for so long under responsibilities, expectations, projections. Because that is what it took to be taken seriously. It involved a whole lot of sacrifice and I have nothing but respect for those who come out feeling alive, knowing this is their calling.
They say the 9 months is symbolic because that's how long it takes a fetus to fully form. That it was never meant to be easy, and just like a baby being born it is meant to be both transformative and painful. But it's like being born into a legal fraternity.
I waited for this feeling. Maybe I focused on wanting this feeling too much. That's why it never came. When you love what you do, I imagine you feel it from the moment you open your eyelids to get you to work. It is your passion that becomes the driving force. Not an impending fear of scorn, being rejected, or needing to learn that everything you worked so hard for may not be what you're good at. Who wants to open their eyes to that reality, anyway? That they may have wasted, (or will continue to waste) precious time in their lives for some greater good or to prove a point that THEY DUNNITTTT (!!?) *battle music*
So here is my attempt at reviving a part of me I always loved. Writing. I still keep books from my prepubescent days no matter how much it makes me want to gauge my eyeballs out reading the things I thought were the shit. The people I would have given the world for and of course the things I regarded as cool. *Sigh*
Speaking of cool, Lolo Zuai makes ethereal music and I have been falling asleep to her album 'High Highs and Low Lows' for the third consecutive day now. ♥
There is this beautiful French song in there called 'Beaucoup', which translates to 'very much'. (Thank God for DuoLingo!) which is a great song to play at the background of a vintage tinted film documenting a love story. As far as TV Shows go, American Horror Story has created a clusterfuck of existential, religious and sexual crises within this already turbulent mind.
But a turbulent mind.
It appeals to some, don't it?