First, if you have an allergy or aversion to existential moments, where one looks into the face of ennui and questions one’s position in the world, I’d skip most of this entry. In the last few weeks, my day job underwent several massive changes. Structures were taken, shaken and shattered. We are now operating under a “Leap before you Look” process and I am not happy with it. My definition of my job, which did have many stressful and annoying moments, held some positive meaning. “I’m making a difference.” I told myself.
Now, I walk into work exhausted, and leave sleepwalking. “Why am I here? What am I doing?”
The existential questions about my money making job bleed into my writing. I’m looking at my projects, at Ivre and Metaphysical Graffiti. I wonder if I’m doing anything other than just dumping words on a page. It was enough for me to say, “I’m writing a story I’d want to read.” The desire to fill in a missing story, to create a tale I wish to read, but could not find anywhere, started me down this road. And now I’m wondering if that’s enough.
“You should write something with depth and meaning! What are you saying?”
If I knew what I was saying, I wouldn’t be writing this entry. This is something I’ll have to puzzle out.
And now this:
Biomechanoid Blues 