Today has been a very unusual day. I guess I have no one to blame but myself but I came home from a long day of work and the first thing I did was search for literary agents and research The Matrix film series. Those two are not a good combination.
Destiny has always been important to me, because believing my life has an ultimate goal keeps me going. But, there has been very little in my life that suggests I have a destiny I was meant to fulfill. I want to make it as a fiction writer, but the business does not seem to agree with my train of thought. But more to the point, breaking into the business itself is a very difficult process and I've been thinking for a while that all my works are trash. I'm not just saying that either. My books sometimes feel disjointed because I'm good at making stuff up as I go, but that doesn't mean I always get it right. Other people giving me feedback and don't seem to realize these mistakes like I do.
I feel right now like life has lost its meaning and I shouldn't care what's right for me or not; but maybe I'm just tired. Somewhere down the road I hope somebody can teach me what I need to do more of or what I need to do less of. I don't know why I perceiver, but maybe I was visited once by my future self who convinced me I would make it and then disappeared. Writing is very rewarding, but trying to impress someone when there is nobody to impress makes no sense.
This has been an existential-moment-of-the-day-moment. I guess it's not exciting to read about, but that is what this blog is all about.