othelladub's Diaryland Diary


The sweet smell of success

I find myself at a crossroads. Should I look inward, focus more attention on myself? Should I direct my desires and goals and dreams elsewhere, deflecting problems I encounter with unrelated obstacles. I don't know what the goal is anymore. I wanted to be a comic book artist growing up. From 13, I knew that's what I was going to be doing for a living. As it turns out, the industry is nearly dead, and my hopes have shifted to a dream of writing in the industry - something I know I can do. I need hands-on-training. I need an apprenticeship. I need time. How can I accomplish this? First of all, I need to stop looking so much at how my actions affect other people - and just make an attempt at it. If I fail, then I think I will ok with that. But that's probably due to the fact that my pride won't allow me to fail. If I really take a chance - really work at it, then the most overwhelming failure will still be a bit of a success. I don't want to be confined to living for other people. It can make a person miserable. And even when things work wonderfully for a while, there is an inevitable decay which results in severed emotions, guilt, jealousy, and anguish. I want to be in love. My friend Dan describes it as giving yourself over completely to another person. I think that's how he sees it. But I find that description, that analysis - flawed. Ideally, yes, that might work in a glorious, beautiful, sunny world. But this is not that place, and people are selfish, and no one is willing to give of themselves completely. There is a God I believe in who is able to do that, and has done that, but it's a struggle to do that in even a very small sense. I have a decent heart. But I am also flawed in many ways. And my flaws distract me, and keep me from living fully and happily. I often blame my surroundings. But I need to also look at my drive. I need to have a definite plan, definite goal. Or I will be 30 and still complaining about the same shit. And I don't want to do that. I want to be complaining about completely different shit when I'm 30. The shit that comes with success.

4:58 p.m. - 2001-11-05


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