Don’t you sometimes just feel good? For no reason, even. Today is the first time in a long while I’ve felt beautiful, but it makes me nervous for some reason I can’t quite define.

There are times I feel so shallow that it’s almost sickening. Like every IQ-point I had disappeared the day I realized I could look good. As if every book I’ve read, every article I’ve analysed, studied and written means nothing and that all my, even though sometimes random, knowledge is either gone or good for nothing. Like all my education and good grades were wasted beyond comparison, since I still have no clue of what to become. There was a time, quite a long ago, when I wanted to study psychology, forensic anthropology, sociology or even, at times, literature. Every topic could interest me, every detail was important, and my education – state of mind – mattered. Now I’m blank. I felt challenged by studying Chinese for a while, but I realize now more than ever that, as I’ve always been saying, I have the attention span of a gold fish. I can’t stay focused for more than a few months at the time, I never have and probably never will. Maybe I do have a will of fire when it comes to starting something new, but I almost never finish what I start. How am I supposed to finish a university degree like this? What could I possibly work as when I don’t want to stay in one place for more than a few months?

I think that if I first manage to start school again after this year with Chinese, I’ll probably study “something within art”. I do have more thoughts on the matter, but chances are I’ll change my mind once more. Art history? Literature? Clothing design, photography, mixed-media paintings or seamstress studies? I already love all of them. I’d love to make my own clothes, fire off my mind with paintings, or live off my stories and “rants”, the last one because it’s something I’ve done since I was somewhere around 12 and never have gotten tired of. Photography would be amazing too, but taking pictures because other people would want me to and pay me for it removes all the love I have for it, and all the passion to continue with it.

Should I be honest and seem even more shallow while feeling even better?

I would like to do nothing. Nothing. All I really, truly, want is to travel the world while writing and taking pictures of it.

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 17th, 2009 at 15:23 and is filed under dreaming, le moi. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.