Gyres

I've been reading a lot of blogs lately.  Finding new ones, rediscovering the old, getting into just observing.  I really want a full-fledged, professional blog.  I want it more than anything at the moment.  I know that this desire springs from my love of writing and getting all the jumbled thoughts in my head out onto paper and organized.  But there is problem with this, right now.  It is paradoxical that I am writing about it, but this thought doesn't fit into my issue.

My problem is that I am learning how to order my thoughts in my head, without talking them out or writing them down (the topic I am writing down here, is still jumbled in my head, perhaps because of the day I've had).  I feel that I know what I want to do, but I don't know how to motivate myself to begin it.  I hate that.  I hate this feeling of anxiety and fear, just after I get excited about my hopes and dreams. I am losing my interest in my academia, I am losing heart and drive in the "work" I am supposed to be doing.  I feel useless, like I am not contributing to anything.  What does a student do? Nothing, I have no independence, and too much fear of the cage I feel myself being placed in.

Like I said in my last post, I want to write and I want to be free.  I hate that I don't feel free.  But what can be done in this society that is fulfilling and freeing without a degree? I don't have the drive of an entrepreneur or the creativity of so many of the people in the world that can just make it on their own.  I don't know.

This post is probably not even written well, and I truly don't care.  I don't care about anything anymore.  It is so easy to walk away until things are said and done and then I have this paralyzing fear.  I am dying.  I am sinking into the anxiety and depression that has pulled me in so many times before.  I wonder if that affects all these dreams.  I wonder if they are where this starts or propels from. I hate this.  I just don't know what to do anymore.  I just want to be free.

How I feel right now.

A Wanderer's Wonderings

I fully plan on writing a longer, more explicative post once I'm at home and on a computer, but this is the first time I've travelled (besides short road trips) since I got home.  I am going by train today through the lush and decrepit countryside of the South. I love this journey. I've taken it many times, through many different bits and pieces and everytime I appreciate this area's rich rail-connected history more.
I am sitting in the station, waiting for my train and looking around at the travel posters and the brochures and wanting so much to be able to do this more often. Travel is something I'm used to, something I have worn well: I think I could make a career of helping people who haven't discovered the nuances and tricks to some of these experiences. I would say I could do it easily but I am not naive enough to think fate won't send me a lovely gift of strife if I do.
I've done an entire post before on Samantha Brown. For good reason. She is kind of a hero of mine. In fact, for much of my life I have been loathe to name a hero when people ask that most basic ice breaker. Why should I idolize someone else? Am I not good enough to be my own person? But I get it now and I have more heroes than any person comfortable in their own skin should have. Paul Theroux and Anthony Bourdain and a few other weary travelers making up a large portion of them. I love it. Wholly.
I have recently begun to become a cliche, garnering a love for that all too familiar heroine Carrie Bradshaw, but I admire her writing. I don't know if in her mythos she went to or graduated from college, yet she gets to write about things she loves and explore her world as a career. More and more I pick up a newspaper and think, in the dulcet tones of Mr. Urkel, "Could I do that?"