I wish I knew where these moods came from. I feel kind of …
I really don’t have a word for it. Frustrated is probably the closest. Perpetually frustrated.
I went to the bookstore today to kill some time and, as usual, I got drawn into the writing references section where I found two books that looked like they might be useful in building my own indie publishing company. And then I put them both back because A) I probably didn’t need both of them and B) that whole dream feels like make believe.
If you were one of the few who tuned into the web series Quarterlife, you heard one of my … well, “favorite” isn’t quite the correct word… a quote that speaks volumes about me. The main character, Dylan (played by Bitsie Tulloch) says in one episode, “Sometimes being an adult feels more like playing make believe.” I feel like this most days.
But my magazine and publishing company – magazine, mostly – were my forays into adulthood. I started the magazine in the final months of my last year of college and have been nursing it ever since and even though it doesn’t make any money and my loyal readership is two, it’s something I’m pretty proud of.
Today, however, the whole thing feels like a giant farce. It’s not just that. I feel like a poser calling myself a writer, and there are other things too. I guess I feel kind of invisible to most of the world, save for a few people. I commented on a “friend’s” Facebook status, along with a few other people, and she replied to all of them but totally skated over me. I “tweet” and no one ever tweets back. I invited the general public to go to a concert with me, because I don’t know who of my friends would want to, or be able to, go and didn’t get a single bite. I sent a pretty kick ass gift (I thought, considering I didn’t have anything to work with) to my KHK Secret Santa person and she hasn’t troubled herself in four days to say “thanks that was super!” or “you suck at buying gifts!” Either would be nice, at this point.
Maybe “sorry for myself” is the most accurate way to describe this feeling. Forgotten, lost, invisible… all of the above. Oh well, enough whining for tonight.