#tryingtoadult

Happy Birthday, Harry!!! (& J.K.Rowling).

Harry Potter is a universe to me, in which I wouldn’t mind stepping. Basically, I would enter this mad world (only if I am a witch). But my basic problem of avoiding scary and difficult things will definitely follow me there. I wonder if I was in the first year with Harry, and I had the knowledge of book 1, would I walk up to him and tell him all about Tom Riddle, the prophecy, Horcruxes or be too scared to do so…because right now they are a fantasy, then it will be a reality. For me the scariest part of reality is work. No, I don’t think I am scared of hard work. Or maybe I am just lazy. But am I lazy? I don’t want to consider myself as lazy, I am scared. Fear of failure is running through my veins. But it is not just that, I have fear of starting something. And that fear can sometimes be very crippling. 

For example, I am doing a project for the last month and there are some minor changes to be done plus a major addition. I would need to spend some time on the minor change, and even then it might not be perfect. And the major addition is something I need to learn, from scratch. And I have understood 50% of it. I feel like I will not understand the remaining 50% because the 50% I did understand is still sketchy. So, the last couple of days I have been procrastinating and avoiding my boss. Terrible business ethics, I know. 

I am currently sitting in my sitting room thinking of anything i could be doing other then working on my thesis. Yes i’m trying to write a thesis, or trying to avoid doing so anyways, which is how i ended up here. I’ve never wrote for myself before, it has always been a collection of shitty sentences that had to be handed up to a tutor or a lecturer and it has never been much fun. But with the horrendous amount of crap i have typed in the past month I for the first time felt a need to write for me. I don’t know what this could lead to. I by no means am a writer, on occasion I have spelt my own name wrong and have little respect for grammar (I used to make my English teacher fume because I was the worst in the class) but I just want to write without needing to please anyone with what I say.

I guess this is an online diary. Maybe it will never be seen or maybe my bizarre daily thoughts will interest one person. Who knows, life is weird like that.

I know you want to know what my thesis is about because it’s just sooooo interesting (I don’t know if you can feel the sarcasm jumping through the screen but i’m sending it your way). Well since your so eager to know, I for some reason ended up in art college, I like to think I am the next Grayson Perry but really I've just fucked myself for life. Ha! I chose a thesis topic based on objects and memory but i’m trying to not answer my own questions and have ended up writing a weird collection of sentences about everything and anything that isn’t related whatsoever. I mean my Grandmother has somehow made an appearance in my thesis, shes an object right, she has memories...? If I had paid more attention to the bullshit arty language my tutors have been spouting at me that past four years I could probably write about The Rock and make it work, but I have a habit of staying in my own head.

Well fuck it, my housemate just caught me not writing my thesis again so I better get back on it. 

Fuck it all.