Tuesday, August 20, 2002

Here comes a nice heavy stream of consciousness... don't let it soak you.
So, I've had a month off of work before school starts, which gives me plenty of time to think. Perhaps too much time in fact. And as I noticed I've been ranting in my little velvet journal quite a bit, i thought perhaps I should continue the pattern of scrawl and tie it in with my website. Mind you, my website is swollen like a middle aged housewife full of yuppie pastries, but that never stops me from adding more crap to it. It's the way I vent. And one of the few things I do that make me feel like I've accomplished something.

Particularly today, I'm noticing the stealthy creeping of angst and melancholy, and despite my wielding a hammer at them, they continue to advance on me. Buggers. I guess I won't be escaping this mood.

I love music, it's a great form of expression and communicative tool. Being a creatively driven person I find that music is not only enjoyable but necessary for my sanity. My musical tastes hover mostly in the area of industrial/electro/synthpop...and some goth, but I am not beyond enjoying bands like U2 or They Might Be Giants.

I've become so involved with music that I've actually become good friends with one of my favorite musicians...that I believe, is a gift. I've taken to helping promote his band in small ways by making fliers and handing them out myself, setting up a fanpage, doing some little tasks for him here and there and giving him feedback on occasion when he asks. I really enjoy that kind of thing, supporting smaller bands and getting the word out about them. I do that sort of thing because I believe in what these artists are doing, and that they deserve recognition for their work....but also because it's the kind of thing I would want someone to do for me. I help others in hope that someday the support will come back around to me.

I'm an artist who is sitting here, in a society where art and music are looked at as frivolous, and are occupations that are never well compensated in money or recognition. I'm going to school for the second time, already up to my ears in debt, and pursuing a second BA that I hope will lead me to a career that I can find meaning in. The time I spent in school before and up until now, was one of frustration. I've never had connections with anyone who could help me get any kind of exposure, or decent job. In the art/music world, that a pretty important thing.I have yet to be in the right place at the right time, and I have yet to find anyone in a position who could help me realize myself.

I was dwelling on this today, in terms of something that happened to me years ago, my first time through college. The story just seems to sum things up for me: I was attacked in my apartment, I was the only one home at the time. Yet, there were people home in the apartments all around me. The building was shabbily made so it was easy to hear your neighbors. When I screamed for help however, now one bothered to do anything. No one even called the police...and that would have been easy to do for someone who didn't want to get physically involved. I had to save myself, because no one else even cared to try. And I did, and because of that I'm still here.

You'd think that the physicality of the attack would have scarred me for sure. What affected me the most, however, was the helplessness and frustration of knowing that there were people all around me who knew something was wrong, but wouldn't lift a finger to help someone who needed it. I came out stronger from that episode, having taken care of myself in a way I didn't think was possible, but nonetheless I still find myself in the similar situations - much less traumatic of course.

I will often go out of my way for people, depending on what they ask of me, because I would want the same from them and I am still waiting for my turn. I'm terrible at patience. And it's odd but I feel like I've accomplished more by using my talents to help others than I have in any creations I've done for myself. Perhaps that's what I should be doing anyway....

Quarter life crisis. Isn't it grand? The search for meaning in a world so full of meaningless trivial things....

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