12 November 2011

My head's been overactive lately. Usually I retreat to my journal or into some senseless movie or video game. But I realize that I need to write. I need to put it out here. Not just because I said I would, but because writing for an audience is actually great therapy.

The thing I've been overthinking is the fact that I'm not who I want to be. Not yet. I don't even know exactly who I want to be. I know that I'm closer than I was, but that I'm not where I need to be.

I've made a lot of progress these last few years. Mostly in the respect that I'm far more comfortable in my own body than ever before. Sure, it's costing me a deal of money and some slight heartache with regards to my family and some old friends. But I am far more confident now, and comfortable.

I think I need to start switching my focus soon though. These past couple of years I haven't made any other sorts of progress except for on the trans front. Now I need to find a job that I actually like doing. I need to develop other aspects of my life. I need to remember my friends.

Writing really is a big help for me. But it also makes me a bit sad. Because I know that I won't really be able to do anything worthwhile by writing. I don't really want to be published, because that means that I cannot really write for myself, but only for others. Even if it does mean money. Much of the fun of things goes away when one is expected to do them for money. Like enjoying animals for instance.

I also have a problem with plotlines if I'm writing fiction. I seem to do well enough with description and decent with characters, but I'm crap at actually coming up with a storyline. Perhaps I just have a negative attitude.

I'll work on that too.

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