I’m frightened that this amazing agency asks me to stay. I’m frightened that they ask me to leave; frightened to move forward but even more frightened to look back.
What is it that I want?
I want a well-paying job in digital marketing and PR where I can flex some creative muscle and progress in my dream to being a creative director.
I want to specialise, if possible, in the gaming industry.
I want to continue with my hobbies.
I go to life drawing so that I might express myself and unleash that wild inner part of my creative mind. It also helps with cognitive thinking and dreaming up new angles.
I want to write.
I want to forge a side career as a journalist and novelist.
I want to finish a manuscript of a story I’m proud to tell and have it published.
I want to build a relationship with Charlie. I think that I can grow to love him. I don’t know how it will work, with him living in California and me in London, but I want to believe that love will find out the way.
I want to make time between everything else to keep getting lost in the video games and stories that I love.
I want to find time to journal and explore myself spiritually.
I want to forge deeper relationships with my friends.
I want to stay fit and healthy by doing 5 gym classes a week and eating correctly.
I would like to see more theatre.
I want to read more.
That’s the long and the short of it.
The funny thing is, after compiling that list, I couldn’t help but think how much I rail against the “Cult of Busy” here in London. Everyone is so determined to be busy all of the time that they don’t make time for anything or anyone else.
It’s all rather sad really.
I so treasure that Sunday time, the time that I’m enjoying right now, where I get to rest and recharge all by myself.
It was another busy weekend — Friday drinks with my Dr friend, Saturday at a Eurovision party and Sunday recovering over coffee with Chris and my housemate J.
It’s not that I’m ungrateful for all those things, I am; incredibly so. When I was sitting at home alone just a few short years ago, graduating with a good degree and no prospects, I could only dream about this kind of life in London. I know that, in that sense, I’m very lucky.
Yes, the ‘Cult of Busy’ pisses me off immensely. But I feel that I’m too subscribed to the Cult of Lazy sometimes. I feel that I could be doing more, giving more, embracing more. Trying more. Exploring more. Being more.
Sometimes I’m scared that I talk the talk but don’t walk the walk, as it were. I’m scared that all my talk of ambition and desire for success will just be fluff and dust in the wind. That I will not be able to make it happen.
I suppose that that is just down to me. They say if you want to be a writer, you have to write. I think that the principle carries through anywhere. Sometimes when it comes down to it, any task can seem difficult, even impossible. Sometimes it’s not about how well or beautifully we execute something, it’s simply about how we get stuck in and try to make it work. Sometimes it isn’t going to be perfect. In fact, sometimes it’s going to be one big fucking mess, but it’s better than nothing. Better than lying in bed and living off dreams and fantasies forever.
Though those that know me know how much I prize walking in that world. Walking in many worlds, in fact. Some of them someone else’s and some of my own invention. Within them, I think that we can touch on something sacred; a taste of something in the eternal.
When I landed this contract at the big agency, I alighted on the revelation that sometimes it’s not as much about the subject matter, it’s about going in with the right attitude. I guess the addendum to that is the fact that we’re never going to have all the facts or all the resources at our fingertips to make something perfect, sometimes the true art and creativity is making the best of it.
I suppose, in the end, that’s what I really want to do. The very best that I can of it.