Sunday, June 12, 2011

Hit or Miss, and Delicate All Around

There is of course a part of me that sometimes feels sharply like giving up. Today, Sunday, I marched alone through town, up the main road, and ventured into the modern part of the city. The part that looks much less like romantic old France than where I live and so rarely leave. I actually continued out into the rolling fields and took myself to the olympic swimming pool, (yes oddly located,) and went for a lonely impromptu swim. After that I took myself to a lonelier lunch, and then to a lonelier still movie. [[Pirates of the Caribbean dubbed in French. Jack Sparrow has a certain charm rambling in the language of love but still I felt I was being a bit jipped on the real deal.]]

Truth is I've been here 4 months and don't have a job; and I promised my family that were that the case after only two months I would return defeated with "my tail between my legs."

Not that I'm not nostalgic for beaches and ocean and grass and trees and Hawaii green and my Hawaii girls, but I hate to regress into living with my family in the middle of the Pacific. I want to be living my twenties to the fullest, and, quitting the France dream would be pointedly painful. This is a scary time for me, a time that feels dangerously hit and miss and delicate all around. I don't want to end up a starving artist, or a mooch off my family; do I go back to school for my Masters? Where? How do I afford it? What can I do with the degree that I have? Do I go back to the islands and look for work there? Do I stay in France, or do I leave and risk putting it back on the unreachable, seemingly phantasmal side of the Earth where it has been all of my life till now?

1 comment:

  1. To be immobile is the failure move forward, the failure to move forward is death in life. Press on to new horizons, or press on and stay the course. But whatever you do. Press on.


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