The long dead have always fascinated me. The stories they leave, the articles of clothing and materials they discard by accident - on purpose. This last year the real world has hit me full force - knocking me from my historical pursuits. I was hit with reality - squarely and most painfully. I realized that the Ivory Towers are gone, that people not only don't understand history but they don't want to. I am a historian, a writer - perhaps a professor - but definitely not a teacher. I don't like children really - and certainly don't want to spend my time in a middle school or high school classroom. (in this country at least) What I want to do requires a lot of soul searching, of setting my priorities solidly in the right direction. For now it is study for comps, pass them - then work on my thesis. After all the academic pressure is off - I will be free to pursue what I really want to do with vast accumulation of knowledge - WRITE. I want to write. I want to write on history, on passion, on whatever strikes my fancy and I want to leave a novel behind that like a handful throughout my life - will leave others breathless.
I must clear my life. The internet has cluttered it in a way that is alarmingly like a drug addiction. I will be removing myself from constant updating, from the latest meme's and frantic correspondence. I simply must.
Computers have made us all ADHD.
I want soft lights, rain outside and a few hours to spend talking myself through my own thoughts.
No comments:
Post a Comment