I feel like I'm running on the spot and I've felt that for ages now. It has nothing to do with anything so simple and mundane as a ‘career‘. It's not that hard for me, really. I don't work very hard with such matters and I've never have. But in a certain way and with certain, but still non-specific issues, I've worked so hard. It takes up enormous amounts of time, and I feel like I've gained very little ground in the past six years. I don't feel that there's SO MUCH I could've done if it wasn't for this, because I probably wouldn't have done it then either, but for other reasons (and perhaps less eligible ones).
I'm still as afraid; I haven't pushed fear back. I've come to think that I have made the lines clearer, I see what it is that makes me panic. But this doesn't seem to help me, as the things I desire most are BEHIND these lines, far out of reach.
I finally got my hands on the Kirsty MacColl collection “From Croydon to Cuba“ and I'm so happy I got it. She's one of my heroes. Or was.
written by Mattias Björkas