Something dishonest and pretentious

Haven't shown myself here since December. Of course I can make all the excuses under the sun, poor little me I work full time, I study full time, I fold underpants part time...

The truth is: lack of motivation. Honestly my life is such a pure form of boring there can not be much to be written about. I mean I live in a little flat, in a little town, lead a little life, with a little job, which entitles me to a little position of importance and a little wage.

I contribute very little to the world or to the society or to the human experience of creation because I am too swallowed up by my little existence.

By the looks of things that existence will get even more monotonous and boring before anything can possibly happen. The best I can offer is my creative writing course assignment submissions which according to the marks I received for them were not that good either.

I do not want to pretend to be more interesting or exciting than I truly am and the only question here is: why am I clinging onto something that is of no value to human experience in general? I have done a lot of things that I wanted to do... I wrote for a living a lot, I was good under pressure, but three years have passed since I last wrote an article of any significance (interestingly the date does coincide with my departure for the UK!) it is all now in the past and I have put very little effort into getting the ball rolling again. With once exception: I did write two letters to the ecologist offering myself as one of those plonkers that work for free and they did not care much for me (which is perfectly justified as they must have had a great amount of far more interesting people writing to them!)...

The point, I suppose, is the time has come for me to pull myself together and into action again or put all my dreams on the back burner, which I can't be asked to do. If I chose to follow my heart then I need a strategy and a plan and dedication, the same kind of dedication and persistence that got me published the first time round...

In that sense there is no space in here or anywhere in my life to pretend that I am too busy or too self important to write and thus I have just to delete this blog and move on or work hard on this baby and make it worth my and everybody else's while.

This is where it becomes obvious of how dishonest and pretentious I have been with myself. There is nothing wrong with the Anglophile apart from occasional toss-ups in pronunciation and avalanches of excuses for laziness.

If only I did not have to live with my own conscience...