Midnight Musings

Alright. I'll accept the fact that it is not midnight - hardly 11pm. But nevertheless I have musings to share. After a day spent being told how my potential rarely translates into what I write, I feel the pinprick of rage. No, rage is too strong. It is rather the pinprick of frustration. Or mild irritation. It can become like a broken record; you seem to know so much and yet so little comes through in your argument. Perhaps I am too scared of success?

That's rather nice, isn't it. Blame my failures on my inherent desire to fall short. I think perhaps it is a generational issue - although I am wary of blaming everything on 'the times' (I have no problem whatsoever with the paper, I merely gesture to the age in which we find ourselves). Everyone you meet - perhaps particularly in the circles I find myself - is exquisitely talented, driven, and perfected. I rarely meet a chipped tooth or unpolished candlestick. Those analogies, though interesting, seem rather to come from a place of intellectual exhaustion than mental creativity.

Perhaps in this day and age there can be too much emphasis on completion. One must always fully immerse themselves in anything they do. They should know from the age of 5 what life careers they have planned. I personally desired to become a fire engine, but apparently my dreams were unachievable. I think it was the flashing lights and the inherent attention they draw that appealed to me. Nevertheless, back to my rant, I do believe that there is little room nowadays for floating. I am sure that many successful men and women spent several years or several jobs merely floating. By floating I do not mean to imply there was no hard work, but simply that the impetus came rather from the desire to work than from the obsession with one particular career.

I may be wrong. It has happened once or twice before. But as I sign off to the night, I feel a self-assuring pat on my shoulder is in order. I do not know what it is I long to do - I presumed I would be a fire engine. When those dreams were crushed, I presumed I would be an actor. Now I presume I will be a writer. Or a comedian. Or any number of careers that are deemed 'unstable' and near impossible to make a success of. Thank goodness I have never been afraid of a challenge.