The Struggle to Make Sense of it All

Well I'm not doing too well at making sense of it all this past few weeks. Hence the dearth of blogging, talking, diary entries, the whole shebang really. Pity really coz sometimes I think I've managed to get it to a point where I'm going to take off, jettison into a different kind of stratosphere, as far as thought process, opportunities and generally a different scene when one wakes up in the morning is concerned, and then flat liner.... Its the eternal sameness, relentless going round in tiny circles that's so frustrating. So it comes down to creating one's own reality, and as I paint my realities into existence it seems fairly obvious that I have to shift the content of my study, the approach to the work. Therein lies the catch 22, because my work reflects me at any one stage, so for the work to shift I've had to shift, but if I can't manage to get my perception to change then everything stays as it is and I go no where. I take full responsibility although I do crave the odd helping hand. Lethargy, ennui, the spiral of pointlessness. Does one scratch up the disappointments or only acknowledge the successes. Doesn't the effort of putting ones self out into the world determine a positive acknowledgment, or is it only valid after another opens the gate and lets you through that particular door which you summoned the courage to knock on.

Waiting for Seamail