If you guys are keen on reading, you must already noticed that My Story is all about personal growth.
If that wasn’t clear until now, or if this is your first post of this thread, check it out the 1st paragraph, which says, «This is a space for Men who are on the journey of personal inner game transformation to share their insights, realizations, success’s, and failures.»
This might seem useless at first sight. But it’s not – When you choose to be a man and do the things you want in your life, there is some things you must left off. And that’s what I’m about to share in this post.
I believe it will get quite personal, since this post is retrospective-like one. So if you guys feel bored with this reading, I understand – and apologize – for that.
But there might be some pieces of info between my words that might click with yours in your head, or my experience of leaving everything to live the life I want to can, somehow, be the little pushing that you need to do with yours.
That’s what I hope it happens, at least.
Without further ado, let’s begin.
The First Semester:
The 1st semester was when I first joined My Story. The events reminded me of feeling like Hank Moody in a friend’s party and, well, that was a nice way to start posting here. This also reminds me of the Blondie Crush Case, which teached me how hard may be if the girl you really feel attracted to play in the same team of yours – if you get my point here. Sure, this may even «sucks», but now the answer seem quite clear to me: if I was chasing the life I want (and that includes meeting lots of new girls), would I care? Guess you got the answer. Answer which lead to other learnings, like this one.
So, I’m not planning to review these things, but if you guys want to do it, feel free to check on the links I just posted.
The First Semester can, sadly, be summarized in one paragraph: I was living a dull, boring life. Working 8-to-6 in a job that I hated, going to an university that I didn’t felt love to do it anymore and, well, leaving my writings aside. Sure, it could pay the bills, but my stress and sadness were somewhat near 70 in a 1-100 scale. I just felt glad for having comfort in my life. But life was just passing by.
When it was June or July, I was reading A. I. posts here and realized where my life was going. In 10 years, how would I be? Would I still work with this? Would I be happy with this? Would I be chasing my dreams?
The answer scared me, because this big NO that popped up in my mind came with the image of an unhappy life. A life where a man feels afraid to go towards his dream. And why? It was because I was afraid.
Being a writer isn’t an easy way. There’s lots of self-proclaimed writers down in the internet and the literary marked feels even more prostituted. It’s hard for an independent man to reach success, selling his own books and get a living with that.
Being a bookwriter might mean to be unemployed. Being a bookwriter might mean to live in debts and – in extreme cases – living under the bridge. I felt fear when I looked at this paradigms and possibilities. But when I looked back at my dull life, the biggest, empowering realization came to me:
«I’d rather die faster chasing my dream than dying slowly in a dull, comfortable routine.»
After setting this, it was a no-brainer. I concluded my 5th semester of Graphic Design University and left it. Yes, it was 2 years and a half invested in something I wasn’t planning to use it anymore (I won’t keep going on this subject, you can check it here). But it teached me two big lessons: what I really love and how my life can be if I let myself not chase my dreams.
The Second Semester:
Such a decision had a big impact on my life. And I’m not speaking about having to explain to everyone about why you left a course when you were about to get graduated. The impact was because I felt way more freer than before.
After leaving Graphic Design, I realized I wanted to have a graduation on something that made me grow as a Writer. And then came the choice: Journalism. But this time, I was pretty selective about it. I wouldn’t choose a course which I didn’t felt excited for going to the classes. And then, the only option that seemed right for me was joining the Federal University of my state. They had one of the best journalism graduation courses and (to my excitement), got focus on the writing stuff. Some of the classes even involved shortstory writing! How could I not love that?
Still, the test for joining (called Vestibular here in Brazil) was a tough one to go. I had to frequent classes for learning High School stuff again, so I would be ready to do the questions. And so I joined a special class called «Semiextensivo,» which teached these contents to prepare me for the Vestibular. The realization that I was free to learn new things – ones that I loved more than dealing with Photoshop and Illustrator – pumped more blood through my veins, and made me wake up more happier to face the night.
Yeah, you got that right. I said «Night» because there was still a big, big nuisance in my life: my job.
I worked as a Copywriter in an Ad Company. I don’t seem to recall telling this here (probably I already did), but I did hated that job. My coworkers had a way of life that gone against my principles. I worked to pay my bills – someone got to do that, right? – but was also paying with my own mental health.
The Semiextensivo, which classes happened at night, made me live a new, freer moment in my day: I get to know lots of new people (and a new crush too, as I told in my last post, with some good lessons I learned later on) and feel more certain about my future.
But I was still attached to a job that made me unhappy. Working 8-to-6 in something that I hated wasn’t my plan on My Perfect Life. But I needed the money.
So, what should I do?
The answer was more obvious these time. The choice of leaving Graphic Design made me learn that we often know what to do – we are just afraid to take the decision because we just don’t know what will come from them.
So, I had to quit my job. And in October, I did it. With the remaining money, I paid all my bills related with the Semiextensivo, dedicating myself to an entire routine of study. That’s it, no more girls, nor games, nor writing – just studying my way out.
In fact, studying so much was the reason I stopped posting here. The Vestibular happened in three days: 15, 16 and 17 of December. I made what I could, and to be honest, I just don’t know if I’ll be classified. There were 14 people fighting for each spot of the course, and there are chances I don’t get mine. There are chances of I win it, also. I just don’t know.
Now that it’s all summed up, I’ll get to the real point: the consequences of my decisions.
The Price I Paid for My Choices:
I’d be lying if I told you that following the life you dreamed had no negative or positive consequences. That’s why I’d like to talk a bit about the ones I had:
• I had to come with new ways to survive.
I had some conversations with LoGun in some posts, where I complained about my life. He gave me some hints on online jobs, so I could make money by writing articles or other kind of text-related works. And while I couldn’t get accepted by the page he sent me because I failed in an English tests (I don’t know much of English grammar, as the opposite doesn’t happen in Portuguese, my main language), the idea of being a freelance writer clicked me right.
Two weeks later, I got a special contact on Facebook which needed a freelance writer for some of his projects. We started chatting and then he also accepted me as one of his freelance workers in his main company. This job isn’t giving me much money in this moment because it’s related with the client’s demand, but I feel a great chance here to pay my bills with the best job I can get (at least, until I become a prolific writer).
The point on relating this is: I don’t believe another cool, better path would even show in my life if I kept on the same ol’ road in my carreer, working in that ad company. Sometimes you really need to abandon the road you’re on, so you can discover a better one.
So, for me, getting nuts and leaving my job seems to be a great decision, aside from what seemed at first time.
• I had to work with a personal literature blog.
Since I heard about some bloggers in Brazil starting to get their crowd by publishing shortstories and essays, I felt that there’s a new wave of future writers coming on. The competition (and the prostitution of the term «writer» by amateurs and wannabes) might put it hard at first, but there’s also the advantage of getting easier to be in touch with the public you like.
So, time for personal ads: If any brazilian bookhead here feels like reading some online shit about urban and psychotic tales of violence, sadism and critic, check out my website. Or you can like my facebook page, if you want.
• I lost friends.
I remember Endgame citating some passage on you get to lose friends when you start to change your life. Sadly, that might be more truer than I thought. But it’s not only because you decide to get away from some people – they also decide to do the same thing with you.
My dearest lesbian friend, which I mentioned in a few posts here, decided to drop down our friendship. Reason? Her girlfriend hates me. Our contact, after I dropped down the University where we studied together, started to become even more rare. And since my presence around here wasn’t strong as before, her girlfriend started to complain. And she said we should stop talking.
Now, don’t you guys think I really agreed on that one – I complained as fuck and argued really hard on her, for tooking such decision. I got fucking mad. Really pissed off. Never I was so backstabbed in my life as the moment she said, «we should stop hanging around together.»
But I accepted. Angrily. But I accepted her choice. I kept on my life, even disagreeing with that, hating to kill a friendship for such reasons.
Then I realize I was hating someone I loved. And this made me feel bad. How could you ever decide to hate someone you loved before? This is hipocrisy. You can’t love someone just because they’ll be at your side. You got to love them for who they are, and the moments you shared with them. So, I don’t hate her anymore. If I see her again, I won’t be mad. I’ll accept that she took the decision which seems to be best for her at that moment.
I don’t think there’s a real point on telling this on this point. Maybe because somehow I feel our world doesn’t need any more hating or stuff. Or maybe that hating someone you loved before just doesn’t seem right to me. Sorry if I skipped it off.
• I got a typewriter.
See this beauty here? Her name’s Nagger – like an old woman who likes to complain about anything, nagging and nagging and nagging…
I am not posting about her to make you guys jealous – although I’m certain it’s too late, because you realized I have this baby here and you guys just wish her in your desk -, but it’s in her that I’m trying to write my shortstories. Sure, it’s quite a hipster process (stone me if you want), but I feel more in touch with the hardness that the oldschool writers faced in their times.
Ok, really. It’s just a way to illustrate that I’m more in touch with writing, this deepest passion o’mine, investing more and more in this thing that I really love. I’d like to share with you guys that my passion with writing is so big that I can see myself living without (almost) anything in my life. But take writing away from me, and I’ll have no bigger reason to live.
Do you have any passion as great as this? I suggest you keep in touch with it more and more. Life seems better when you do it
Hope my lessons were worthwhile to you.
Merry x-mas to everybody!