Monday, 28 September 2015

A couple years on.

So, education ended and I went to work. I don't have a job that is even remotely close to where I thought I would be at this moment in my life. I stack shelves, granted I run a team of people which after getting to know them all; are fairly like-minded; but nevertheless, we all stack shelves. All my plans to become an illustrator have pretty much drowned, largely due to the fact that I just cannot shake the feeling that I must continue where I am at. I cannot leave my day to day job. I don't have a story written up, never finished my portfolio and in all honesty I don't have any skill as an illustrator. I just scribble all the bitterness left inside me onto paper, occasionally. It's not even a hobby, let alone a career. But, I have a new passion.

I've been lifting weights. Picking up heavy things and putting them back down repeatedly. Exciting, I know. I've been at it since 2013. I've found it to be the most consistent thing I have done with my life so far. I find a great sense of achievement in listing heavier and heavier. That is the only reason I continue to do it.

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