Lynchburg, VA – And All That Could Have Been Dreamed 5316 days ago | | 614 words

This is my life. This is my time. This is my place. This is my world.
This is where I get off the bus and step into a new, lonlier place. The more I am around my co-workers, the more I feel out of place and like a loner, which I am.

I do not drink and I’m tired of people asking me why and feeling like the explanations I give are not suitable. Why do I need to explain myself to them, to anyone… I am who I am because this is who I have built myself to be.

I am the mac inside a PC-dominated world. Looking for and sensitive to design and how things look and feel. The sleek snow white exterior inside a square beige shell.

I have been staring at the new Mac Mini for an hour now… customizing it. Reworking it, trying to figure out how I can afford it with my tax refund, along with the extra RAM OSX needs and the service plan, because it’s my policy to always buy a service plan on anything as big as this (also, hard to fix myself).

I’ve been staring at this mac because I feel like it will help me break out of this box I’ve been stuck in for so long… I want to break out, I need a change, I am tired of fixing problems instead of using my computer. Troubleshooting is something I do for a living, it’s not something I then wish to being home to my desktop.

I want something that just works. I want something pretty to stare at, to use, to interact with that matches my aesthetic wants and needs. My PC at home is skinned to look and (with free software add-ons) has much the functionality of ab OSX-gen Macintosh.

I am tired of seeing money go out the window for repairs, instead of improvements, or rent or food…

Maybe I’m deluding myself, but it seems like OSX runs longer, better than XP in a thousand years…

I need a change. Of desktop. Of Operating System. Of life.

I want to be a designer. I want to immerse myself inside XHTML, CSS, color, typography, whitespace… things I need to learn better and hone my (fairly weak) skills.

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a designer. First in print, then the web. I feel at home in design. I feel alien inside tech support. Like I have donned this new skin for the purposes of employment and minor acceptance.

Like the butterfly, I want to spread my design wings and fly away. Leaving this cold dark world of helping other people from the dark dungeon of the agency where I am employed.

It’s killing me inside to be here. To live this life. Where did I go wrong? Where did I take my wrong left turn down this hellacious path inside? I wish I knew where I went wrong, so I can make it right.

I’ve spent my life second-guessing and self-doubting, trying to wing my way through it and never looking back. Hoping for the best in the world I have created for myself, and the life path I am hurtling myself down faster and faster by the second.

If I don’t stop to look back or catch my breath, I can’t get hurt, right? I am immortal if I can never be caught by an attacker. Isn’t that how it goes?

Now that I think I have run my pixelated pen dry this evening, I shall retire to my hotel bed in and check myself out of the waking world. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day, though I doubt it will…

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