Paper Planes

This week was a handful.

Went for report presentation which said report was written by me.

Presented to client by director.

I was contented, i could see my hard work paying off.

I was happy, i could do this forever.

Life seems to be taking a turn, maybe working here isn't such a bad thing after all.

It's a lie.

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I thought about it long and hard. To really comprehend what was going on, i took couple hours to think about it.
And i am not sure why i treasure the human interaction so much, it affects me. I had to leave for band practice, but i felt myself striving hard to pry myself away from my office because i wanted to stay to talk.

It didn't make any sense.

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It was good, we played our best tonight for a talent search competition.

Though the weather kept me weak in my head, but the sense of achievement (however significant or not) kept me going on. Made a couple of new friends.

Secretly i hope we make it to the finals, realistically i don't think i am there yet to even play at the finals.

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Watched a movie.

I love the creativity used in the movie.
It struck me midway, i want to do stuff like this.

I cannot, i am not happy at work, not the job, not the people, generally just being useless, doing things that don't seem to have any real contribution.

How could i be blinded by pseudo achievements? Writing a report to help someone sell more products, what good would that do?

Writing music, hiking mountains, writing a play a movie, sipping coffee in an unknown town.
That's what makes me want to live.

Money.

Shit. You're right, people have been telling me i need money for all those stuff. I should focus on making myself financially free, stable, i should invest my life in 3-5 years of hardwork of some program that could make me set for life.

I am tempted, i am persuaded.

But i can't help to think that isn't that the same as working?

Someone told me it's working 10 hours a week for 3 years compared to 9-5 job for 30 years.
Agreed.
But no thanks.

I feel the need for something more.

If i die not doing that. Then yea, fuck my life.

But i will die trying.

For now, i keep myself going by seeing my nephew growing up, happy i have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, good friends to keep me going on, and a dream that will never die.

You ask me if i a happy?
Yes i am.

"I'm a dreamer, but i'm not the only one" - John Lennon