need.to.write

Justin let me read a speech given by David Foster Wallace last night, and I think it got to me.

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LISTENER COMPLAINT: I hate the term "disconnect." I hear it all the time on NPR, and it drives me bonkers. It's been said to me twice in two situations that were almost equally painful, and I prefer not to hear the word.

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"You don't seem like the money grubbing type," someone said to me once after I confessed that I was studying advertising at my alma mater. Likely, this was during a heyday spent shoeless in the sun in front of a large columned library during a congregation of local-vores and environmental enthusiasts.

I then explained why I was attracted to the industry--there was a promise of making a living by creating art and writing. Then I learned how the industry can be used for betterment of society. Dreams I had, dreams they were, dreams they can still be. In the meantime, I might be placing plates in front of hungry faces again.

In the past few months, I've dealt with dizzying rejection accompanied by self-defeat, and I'm starting to plead lazy.

Over a few years, I tried to achieve something. I guess employment was an end goal, but it wasn't the end goal. By the time I escaped Tuscaloosa, I became "young and idealistic," propelled by learning injustices and put off by notions of bureaucracy. My father likely called me "naive."

I found something wonderful and went with it. I'm happy like I never knew happy could be. I'm comfortable, and I'm sleeping again. I'm dreaming again, too. Sometimes, I get the feeling that I'm in a waking sleep. Such a moment occurred this morning when I rubbed Justin's back as the room became brighter.

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I realize I do need to stay awake and push harder. I've holed myself up to apply for jobs, and I've strayed from activism. I'm resolving not to let the go-getter go just yet.

All the disappointment on the job front makes it difficult, but "it'll happen." My hopes and my passions have me hyped up to hear back from Genergy. This week, I hope.

In the meantime, this is a written statement to myself to forget about springtime fiascos and catch up with karma.



courtesy of xkdc.com