Gorillas in the mist

I went so mad at my work today, I took some dirty dishes out into the kitchen, scraped them off and then started to take them back out into the cafe again. I got out to the tables and looked down into my hands and just thought like "Oh dear". At that moment I was just so over the mundanity of it all that I just wanted to drop them on the floor and skip out never to return again and just be an artist and writer and wearer of nice clothes for the rest of my life. I used to think I really could do that, I used to think it until not very long ago, even, but I feel in the past year I've really grown up and reality has hit that this floaty life that I had envisioned for myself isn't just going to HAPPEN.

When I realized that, I was kind of like... "Right, well.. what... what now?" and my heart kind of sank. It was like the end of being truly young or something. When you're young you believe any kind of shit about your future and everyone tells you can you do whatever you want and you really think like "YEAH!" and it will be that easy. I mean yeah I can be an artist and and writer, anyone can. I am one now - but being a successful artist and writer who doesn't have to work at a lousy cafe' to pay the rent for their lousy house is another story. The 'Struggling artist' idea doesn't appeal to me like it does to some of my peers. In my youthful dreams I didn't factor in the struggle, the hard work or the potential failure. I wanted to skip all that, but I think I'm smart enough or old enough now to know it is inevitable. God damn!

By the way, meet my dog Soda, looking dejected in the bottom right of the above photo. He is a serious Simple Simon but I love him anyway.