Now i realise that having studied English and Creative Writing might not sound like the most prestigious degree title, nor does a Bacheror of Arts sound as impressive as a Bachelor of Science. However, i have slogged my guts out for the past three years, completeling assignments early (and never the night before), despite my friends habits of doing so, and allwhilst running the welfare section of the LGBT, volunteering in schools and handling my own neuroitic issues.So, overall i think I’ve done quite well.
But I can hardly write; I’ve batteled a personality disorder, that renders most sufferes unable to function, every day and still got an upper second class honors on my CV now can I.
Instead I cram it full of volunteering and key words and “passion” and yet nothing. Anyone would think I’ve spent the last three years setting fires to nurserys and schools, whilst then making the elderly inhale the smoke as they rescuse the children for all the response and interest in my job applications.
When encouraged to go to University no one said, waste three years and then still find it impossible to get a job, including that of a waitress that you were doing when you were 15 !
So, on the note of being bored, unemployed and my friends all having jobs and therefore not being able to provide me with entertainment, I have taken to chewing my own hair so that it slowly clogs up my throat (well not really but you get the idea).
It’s not that I’m becoming ruminative or that I wish to begin a harangue. However, there is a lot to be said for the catharsis of expressing one’s feelings in a safe and traditional manner.
The question on my lips is when did the art of conversation become so incredibly mind renching. Once the pleasentries of a conversation are completed, and have uncovered no path for which the conversation can follow, it has been presented to me that people struggel to develop topics of communal interest.
The talk of wimbeldon, between a group of people that are all decidly indifferent to Tennis, and indeed sport of any kind, was mistake enough. As is repeating statements to every new party that joins the conversation.
Now, I’m not saying that I could come up with anything more mouth watering than prospective plans for the week or dicussions of dinner but this does leave me with the question; where did the conversation go.
Presently I am unable to over an answer to my own musings, I have however embarked on the journey of discovery to uncover a satisfactory conclusion.
tumblrbot said: WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE IN A BAD MOOD?
Drawing robot people, after having a bath with malteasers hotchocolate