Trapper Valley

2:01pm

wil — Mon, 31 May 2010 04:07:47 +0000

Ah the good old stagnant has returned. Not in full, but in part the somewhat perplexing need for change arises within daily life and urges me to do something more exiting. I never know what this intent is nor where it comes from but it seems almost ever-present in today’s society and immovable from us no matter how hard we try.

The feeling of being different, or not slotting into one of this worlds many viewed clumps. Call it what you will but I find it impossible to diminish fully, as I believe this is called “going crazy” or “losing the plot”. Not the worst option, just seems to be a tragic end to what seems to be such a great thing. Life.

6:45pm

wil — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 08:49:03 +0000

To say I am about to have a wonderful meal with a friend would be an understatement.

Although I have not posted much of late I assure you, and also I assure myself, that chosen life of art and pursuing passion is nothing less than an oasis in a less than ordinary world of stereotyped subcultures fighting amongst themselves to rise above a mass of mapped out lives, to which there is no mistake in saying, I am not immune.

4:01pm

wil — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 05:15:55 +0000

Ah the grip of tiredness. It has it’s hold on me now, the night shift is present for only a few more days, but the days are like weeks and breathing seems an effort. It is fascinating how the body screams at you when you are tired, although I am being a touch over dramatic. Yet there is truth in what I say.

I have been painting a lot, and writing more, I have decided to take on the life of an artist for a while, what I am to do about earning money I am not sure but it will be easy to find something that pays a small wage. Time is what I need now. Time to put words down on paper and paint on canvas, I don’t aim for unimaginable heights, my aim is simply to get something published and my works in a gallery. No small feat yet one I hope to achieve if I am given the chance.

There is a calm freedom after relinquishing myself from the bond of a job that I see as a career. The idea of a career repulses me right now. Why spend years and years trying to climb up a hill of judgement and wasted time when you can do something you love for the hell of it and be happy now. Not tomorrow. I don’t wish for marriage, to own a house or to retire at fifty, these aspirations seem to me to be programmed into our society totally shrouding the reality of just being happy with a cloud of prejudice. A cloud so dense only a few can see through it, yet they are the ones ridiculed by the rest.

5:26pm

wil — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 06:37:31 +0000

Well, it is done. I have officially told my place of work that I am no longer able to work there, this is mostly due to the health reasons more so than the want to escape the monotony, yet I can’t help feeling a sence of relief at the realization that I am now going to follow one of those life dreams as they say, and paint, draw, write whatever, it is all from here. I am going to have to get a menial job to support myself and I’m sure this wont be easy but I am exited all the same.

Why not leave my job and try life as an artist. I have always loved it, always will and it is simply just the singular thought of ‘oh god, what will everyone think’ that has haunted me and taken over the last step to actually doing this. Fuck them all, not in the horrid offensive sence but in that, what should it matter to them that I choose a life which will give me happiness and them slight worry? I know the ones who love me will support me in what it is I choose to do. Anyway it is not as if I am packing up and moving to lower Yugoslavia, ditching my phone and leaving my partner, I’m just going to be an artist.

4:51am

wil — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 17:55:56 +0000

Ah, old friends rekindling lost spirits within. It only takes a thought, you can take yourself wherever you want to go, sometimes this means to the pit of despair. This, I believe, can be the most important thing, to question your very self, to wish for answers to questions you don’t even know. I want to learn all I can.

5:24pm

wil — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 06:42:24 +0000

Sure the nights are long, the days short and the air seems always to be as thick as oil, but there are still some things I want to do, to achieve. I am not sure what exactly these thing I talk of are, but they are certain. The times when I wake seem to be pleasant in the most part, but when my mind gets to thinking of what is to come of the day I fade, my joy seems to take absence in the presence of the boredom that is sure to follow. I wonder how long this will last, for how long can one look out toward a life he can not partake in? To be in the present is getting harder and the lure of what pipe dreams may come is forever growing louder in the minds booming voice, one impossible to silence.

7:55pm

wil — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 09:07:01 +0000

Well it seems as if the joy has all but faded. I am sure this is nothing more than a possible lack of sleep coupled with the certainty of a long nights work. I am just repulsed by the idea of work tonight, to have to stand there and repeat the same monotonous task over and over flanked by two novices who I am training sends me into a huge bout of self-pity and depression. I am so opposed to being stuck in a life that is meaningless and void of and worthwhile learning and now my job is becoming just that.

I should just quit and take up a life of a writer, I am sure this would be one hard task and not to mention that I would need to earn money somehow which once again would no doubt put me in a position of repetitive tasked meaningless work. who knows it may work out.

5:10pm

wil — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 06:22:51 +0000

The thoughts of escape fill my head at the most inopportune times. Something tells me I should rid myself of personal items and journey up into the hills, wherever that may be. I want to write in partial solitude, I have the most wonderful supportive partner and I could never leave her. I would be a broken man if I were to do so.

Still there is a joy that fills me, fleeting as it may be, from thoughts of being able to solely write and nothing else, of devoting myself to words and companionship only. It seems such an outrageous task to forgo the life I have built and leave it without regret to follow a path of a wandering artist. There is so much that tries to hold me back. The friends and family with contorted expressions on their faces wondering if I have gone quite mad. I get paid quite well in my current line of work, yet money is not what I am interested in at all, much to the dismay of a few family members. I do not write this in a rebellious form of running from parental pressures of that of my peers, but only as an outward thought on decisions to be made and outlandish pondering.

5:17am

wil — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 18:47:55 +0000

As I read through George Orwell’s diaries I feel the need to mention such menial things as the weather, or what I ate today. I also find great inspiration in his small tales of the people he meets and the characters they are.

Just like Orwell, I often feel a strange urge, to live with people less fortunate, those who have had different opportunities than I and ask them questions on the life they live and also that of the life they wished they lived. I see too many people now days, wishing for more than they have. A life of abundance and spare comfort seems not enough for some. I have found my most precious times are those where I had the least. I do not want to cast the impression that I have ever been in dire straits or living in the gutter, I do not claim to have had the same hardships as the majority of the homeless wandering the streets, I just know that in my lifetime, short as it may be, I have had some hard turns in foreign countries, where the thought of escaping was almost out of reach. It was these times where I have been most appreciative of the important things in life, like health, and the love of companions.

There are too many useless distractions on the human spirit today and it shrouds us in an almost overwhelming jacket of falsity. There are those who ignore these distractions, follow a more fulfilling life ‘away from it all’ as they say, I guess there are only a few ways society as a whole would view these people. They believe that these runaways are either selfish, eccentric, crazy, weak or they would just ignore them because these people, who take no notice of the battering of our modern world, are too few in number to ever make a difference to their moulded world anyway.

6:56am

wil — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 20:11:11 +0000

I am finding my tolerance for other peoples petty issues diminishing at a considerably speedy rate. I see myself looking at people while they are slowly drooling out some pathetic problem and wonder, ‘do I really have to stand here and listen to this shit?’ I do of course, I stand there with a dumbfounded look upon my face as if to say ” wow, I am in total agreement with everything you are intending me to listen to.” But my mind! My mind is screaming at me to just tell this person that the wall is more interested in their problems and walk off to find a good book or something else that will increase my intelligence rather than tear it away from me in huge chunks. Maybe I should find the kindness and generosity to tell people exactly what they want to hear, or maybe I should start telling people exactly how I feel about what they are saying. In the end will it really make that much of a difference? Probably more so to me than to their ego.