Today I googled myself, and by myself, I mean my online self.
Yes. Don't judge. I just wanted to see what kind of pictures I have uploaded. Sometimes we get carried away after all.
When I ensured nothing shameful has been shared with the world, or at least nothing shameful appears on google search, an old blog entry caught my eye.
As I started reading I thought I'd feel nostalgic, but if I actually felt anything, that was annoyance.
The blog entry was about me loving London, London life, reminiscing my uni (bachelors) years etc.
I was going on about friends, parties, and having a great time in London. Mind you, the post was written in 2012.
Now, four years later, I just graduated from my masters degree, which took three long years to complete, and I got a job (for which I am severely underpaid).
I also have close to zero social life. Firstly, due to many of the friends mentioned on that old blog entry moving to other places, secondly due to drifting away from people (as you do the older you get), and lastly, due to my shit finances.
In the seven years I've been in UK, not even one day has gone by without me stressing over money. And that takes a toll on you. That, combined with the masters degree experience, which was extremely traumatic and draining -not to mention the Brexit news- left me extremely... tired.
Rent prices and overall cost of life skyrocketed, which left me struggling for survival. In the past three years, I cannot say that I have lived in London. I can only say that I have survived London.
Many of my acquaintances and friends in Greece believe that because I'm in London, I'm living the life.
Well, let me tell you: I'd rather be somewhere else and live comfortably. Because in London, unless you make over 30k a year (after taxes) you can't live. You can only survive. And at the moment, I'm not making a third of that. I'm struggling to pay my rent, I'm struggling to pay for food.
I have two degrees, and I can't find a job that pays well enough, so that I can live with dignity.
Because, as someone pointed out on youtube, art degrees are 'laughable' and useless. So, apparently, I should have studied something I don't like, just so I can live with dignity. But then, would that be living with dignity? If I did a job I hated?
The same person who called art degrees 'laughable' suggested I should have checked the Forbes list of the best paying jobs before I started my studies. To her, it's stupid that I chose to study subjects that aren't on that list.
But you see, unfortunately, I am an artist. Every part of my body has been dedicated to art since I can remember myself.
I was four years old when I started singing. I was fascinated. I would sing arias by the window. I didn't even know what opera was at the time. I just knew how to make those sounds, that I later found out to be arias.
Then, I learned how to write. My whole world changed. I immediately started keeping a diary. I started writing stories. In the meantime, I was reading books all the time. I started reading comics as well.
I realised I also liked drawing a lot. I always drew, as all little kids do. I could be good at it, if I put the time and effort. But, I loved writing and singing a little more. And since writing was something I could do anywhere, anytime, I focused on that.
When I was eight-years-old I started learning English. I immediately started writing in English. I was fascinated by how well English worked with lyrics and poems. Even though, I still wrote in Greek, both novels and poems/lyrics, I started writing in English a lot more. Today, I rarely write in Greek. Nevertheless, when I do, it is something I enjoy and cherish. I feel that different languages work better in expressing different things.
In my late teens, I was in a band. That didn't go greatly, but it urged me to push myself to study music. I dropped out of my Greek uni to come to London and study music. I wrote lyrics frantically. I sang, I recorded myself. I was happy. The singer and lyricist within me was satisfied.
But I didn't manage to make connections, as I am an introvert and suffer from performance anxiety. I didn't manage to make it big.
Therefore, music didn't work for me.
I started loving photography around the same time I was in a band. You see, the internet made it possible to share your pictures, and to see others' pictures. That was inspiring to me. It gave me ideas. It urged me to share my pictures with the world. Even if it was pictures taken from my phone. I created a Deviant Art page. It's not popular at all.
My love for photography -which I got from my mother- didn't lead anywhere either.
My masters degree helped me gain knowledge in the arts (theatre, music and drama among others) and management, in correlation to marginalised social groups (e.g. prisoners, persons with disabilities etc.) and how to plan, deliver and organise relevant workshops/projects.
However, as I lack people's skills, which are essential to work on this field, I didn't manage to get a job on that field.
Now I'm a notetaker for uni students with disabilities. Despite the fact that I enjoy the job, and I learn so many things for free, this isn't a post grad job. It's a I'm-still-doing-my-bacherlor-degree job. Which means I'm extremely underpaid considering my qualifications -and the fact that I work for an agency means they get a lot of my money.
So all of these years of studying, all of these years of creating... and nothing came out of them.
I have hundreds of pieces of writing that I've written over the years. I also have hundreds of drawings. And I used to have a lot of recordings of me singing, but many of those I decided not to keep. But I do have a few finished songs, recorded for uni, and a couple of performances. I have thousands of pictures I have taken.
In vain.
It's sad. It's really sad. But you may ask: How is this relevant to London, wouldn't it be the same if you were in Greece?
Maybe, maybe not. But at least in Greece I would be more comfortable financially.
However, the thing is, London is known for its art scene. It's known to be the USA of Europe. Meaning, it is the land of opportunity, and aspiring artists from all sorts of backgrounds and art forms come here to make it.
Or it was supposed to be. Or it used to be. But it's not anymore.
Take it from someone who has lived in London for almost seven years now:
London isn't an easy place to be. And with all the instability that the Brexit brought, the prices rising even more, it's turning into a very ugly place; a place that isn't very friendly to foreigners and poor people.
I can't even remember why I started this blog entry anymore. So, I'll stop here, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe, I will be given the opportunity to live with dignity, as an artist, in this world.
-
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
7/15/16
Random Thoughts XXXXVII
Sometimes you realise that you can just not tolerate anything else.
You have surpassed that point that used to be your limit by far, and even the smallest things can become triggers to send you off the edge.
And I'm at that point now, where I've taken too much bullshit, I've been too under appreciated, I've had to put up with too much ungratefullness, I had to survive obstacles on a daily basis, I had too many health implications, I had too many bad things happen to me constantly, and in general:
I've had enough.
Yes, I've had enough.
So from now on, get ready. This summer is going to be explosive.
You have surpassed that point that used to be your limit by far, and even the smallest things can become triggers to send you off the edge.
And I'm at that point now, where I've taken too much bullshit, I've been too under appreciated, I've had to put up with too much ungratefullness, I had to survive obstacles on a daily basis, I had too many health implications, I had too many bad things happen to me constantly, and in general:
I've had enough.
Yes, I've had enough.
So from now on, get ready. This summer is going to be explosive.
1/5/14
Unexpected
I'm always glad that I can write.
I can write about the things I don't want to forget, I can write about the things that happen to me or the process through which the prism of my thoughts filters my reality.
It's never an easy thing to go through a comedown (feel free to interpret the word on your own way). Sometimes it's harder to overcome one than others.
On my way home I was truly sad that I'd have to return to reality. My xmas holidays have been dreamy so far, but I'd have to take uni seriously from now on; I'd have to face the return of the housemates I'm not really fond of; I'd have to reduce my social life to a minimum -to my mates' dismay; I'd have to forget about the emotional void devouring my soul; I'd have to accept several things were going to change in different aspects of my life without me having any control over them...
I was drowning. Even before I got on the bus home I felt like shit -to put it simply. Even though I was surrounded by people whom I adore and I know they care and love me, even when these people tried to cheer me up, there was a dark cloud all around my head. And as I always do in these situations -when I'm having a comedown/bipolar moment/panik attack or anything of the sort- I chose to leave and be by myself for fear of hurting someone of these people or making them worry.
The funny thing about expectations is that they're a joke. I expected I'd be feeling shit, cry on my way home -or at home- and sink into depression. However two totally irrelevant incidents took place in front of my eyes that left me smiling on the rest of my way home in the past hour.
As I was on the tube trying to blank out the family sitting next to and opposite to me something strange caught my eye. The sister (around 5 years old) hugged lovingly her brother (around 2 years old) who was on the baby troller thingy. The mom yelled: "Aw how touching! Look at that! Some sibling love over there!". And the little girl approached her brother again and hugged him once more. Then they both started giggling and they looked so happy. It was so simple for them. Anyone who knows me a bit knows I hate children. Therefore I was not impressed by the children's age, but by their quality to find happiness in such weird ways.
After a couple of minutes I had to take another tube line to get me home. As I was waiting for the train I noticed a tall handsome guy who was dancing discreetly while whispering the lyrics of the song he was listening to. I realised a couple of people were giving him evil stares even though he didn't make any noise or weird movements. After I got off the train I saw he lived on the same street as I do. He was singing quite loudly a cheesy Spice Girls song on his way home. He looked so happy, so content and so utterly brave doing so. I was mesmerized by his smile. A pure proof of enjoyment.
Why did I even notice these two incidents? Why did I even care?
Because I realised I was blinded for a moment. I let negativity and darkness cover my light. I let the shadow of self doubt and anxiety to erase -even momentarily- all the good moments and people in my life. It's so easy to forget you know. Life itself can be a trap sometimes. A trap to push you onto a routine of boredom, anxiety, sadness and misery.
Peace,
Lara
p.s. I got to thank my Goddess, Leo, for putting up with my emotional roller coaster today and making me smile <3
I can write about the things I don't want to forget, I can write about the things that happen to me or the process through which the prism of my thoughts filters my reality.
It's never an easy thing to go through a comedown (feel free to interpret the word on your own way). Sometimes it's harder to overcome one than others.
On my way home I was truly sad that I'd have to return to reality. My xmas holidays have been dreamy so far, but I'd have to take uni seriously from now on; I'd have to face the return of the housemates I'm not really fond of; I'd have to reduce my social life to a minimum -to my mates' dismay; I'd have to forget about the emotional void devouring my soul; I'd have to accept several things were going to change in different aspects of my life without me having any control over them...
I was drowning. Even before I got on the bus home I felt like shit -to put it simply. Even though I was surrounded by people whom I adore and I know they care and love me, even when these people tried to cheer me up, there was a dark cloud all around my head. And as I always do in these situations -when I'm having a comedown/bipolar moment/panik attack or anything of the sort- I chose to leave and be by myself for fear of hurting someone of these people or making them worry.
The funny thing about expectations is that they're a joke. I expected I'd be feeling shit, cry on my way home -or at home- and sink into depression. However two totally irrelevant incidents took place in front of my eyes that left me smiling on the rest of my way home in the past hour.
As I was on the tube trying to blank out the family sitting next to and opposite to me something strange caught my eye. The sister (around 5 years old) hugged lovingly her brother (around 2 years old) who was on the baby troller thingy. The mom yelled: "Aw how touching! Look at that! Some sibling love over there!". And the little girl approached her brother again and hugged him once more. Then they both started giggling and they looked so happy. It was so simple for them. Anyone who knows me a bit knows I hate children. Therefore I was not impressed by the children's age, but by their quality to find happiness in such weird ways.
After a couple of minutes I had to take another tube line to get me home. As I was waiting for the train I noticed a tall handsome guy who was dancing discreetly while whispering the lyrics of the song he was listening to. I realised a couple of people were giving him evil stares even though he didn't make any noise or weird movements. After I got off the train I saw he lived on the same street as I do. He was singing quite loudly a cheesy Spice Girls song on his way home. He looked so happy, so content and so utterly brave doing so. I was mesmerized by his smile. A pure proof of enjoyment.
Why did I even notice these two incidents? Why did I even care?
Because I realised I was blinded for a moment. I let negativity and darkness cover my light. I let the shadow of self doubt and anxiety to erase -even momentarily- all the good moments and people in my life. It's so easy to forget you know. Life itself can be a trap sometimes. A trap to push you onto a routine of boredom, anxiety, sadness and misery.
Peace,
Lara
p.s. I got to thank my Goddess, Leo, for putting up with my emotional roller coaster today and making me smile <3
12/31/13
2013
It seems that most people didn't have a good 2013.
But then again, I remember last year on this same date people saying they had an awful 2012. And this happens every year to be fair.
2013 for me . . . it was extreme. I had the best and the worst times.
Nevertheless I choose to focus on the best, and learn from the worst.
It was the first time since 2010 that I spend such a long time in my hometown, Athens, Greece.
At first it was so hard to adapt that I was severely depressed for a couple of months. Things got better when I visited London for holidays, but the moment I returned I got worse.
Then, when I thought there was no hope for me in Athens; when I had already decided I was gonna seclude myself and I was distancing myself from my friends, something happened.
Things changed.
I met new people, I reconciled with people I wasn't so close to and I came closer to my mates, I got a job and I started enjoying my summer.
I quit the job and I experienced some really bad behaviour from a couple of people, but I didn't pay attention or energy to that.
This summer was one of the best summers of my life. I can only compare it to the summer of 2008 which was the peak of my lifetime in Greece so far.
However, I had to leave again, even though I had just started adapting and enjoying myself; even though I had so many people around me I didn't want to leave back -again.
People don't realise how hard it is to be the one that leaves. When I moved to another Greek city for two years -for my studies- it took me months to adapt. I was travelling back to Athens at least once a month on the first year and every week on the second year. I hated the people in that city and I didn't think the city had anything to offer me. I got bullied and mistreated all the time, and I didn't even like what I was studying so, I left. But then I had to leave the friends I made there behind.
When I left was when I decided to move to London -for studies. I left in 2010 and I think it's one of the hardest things I've done in my life. I was crying throughout the whole flight. Imagine I had just turned 21 and I moved to a foreign country without any help, without any friends there. I don't think my friends in Greece realise how much I missed -and miss- them at times when I'm in London. My first year in London I was very depressed and I didn't really enjoy myself that much. Thankfully things changed on my second and third year. I was lucky to make really good friends whom I consider family.
When I returned to Athens I was missing my London family a lot. Many people have asked me: -But aren't you used to it by now? Missing people since you are in London for a couple of months and then in Athens for the rest of the year.
No, it never gets old, you never get used to it. I miss everyone equally and constantly when I'm away from them.
So 2013... I returned to London once more for a masters degree. That night of September when I had to say goodbye to my crew in Athens I was ready to cry. Well, I was already crying inside. It's an awful thing to grow away from people you care for. You both go on with your lives and follow different paths. There's always that danger that your paths will never meet again even if you return. It has happened to me before and believe me, it's unbearable.
The first months after my return in London have been a roller coaster: accommodation problems, struggling with my masters, trying to adapt once again, partying, crying, depression, drama, reunion of the family...
I have no clue what 2014 is gonna bring me. I'm hoping a masters certificate and health first and foremost.
But I don't even remember why I started writing this :P
Anyhow I wish for all of us to be healthy, happy, and learn how to focus on the positive things in our lives.
To all my mates in every fucking country they might be right now:
Be extreme and don't give two shits. Love yourselves and take care!
Rave on! :D
But then again, I remember last year on this same date people saying they had an awful 2012. And this happens every year to be fair.
2013 for me . . . it was extreme. I had the best and the worst times.
Nevertheless I choose to focus on the best, and learn from the worst.
It was the first time since 2010 that I spend such a long time in my hometown, Athens, Greece.
At first it was so hard to adapt that I was severely depressed for a couple of months. Things got better when I visited London for holidays, but the moment I returned I got worse.
Then, when I thought there was no hope for me in Athens; when I had already decided I was gonna seclude myself and I was distancing myself from my friends, something happened.
Things changed.
I met new people, I reconciled with people I wasn't so close to and I came closer to my mates, I got a job and I started enjoying my summer.
I quit the job and I experienced some really bad behaviour from a couple of people, but I didn't pay attention or energy to that.
This summer was one of the best summers of my life. I can only compare it to the summer of 2008 which was the peak of my lifetime in Greece so far.
However, I had to leave again, even though I had just started adapting and enjoying myself; even though I had so many people around me I didn't want to leave back -again.
People don't realise how hard it is to be the one that leaves. When I moved to another Greek city for two years -for my studies- it took me months to adapt. I was travelling back to Athens at least once a month on the first year and every week on the second year. I hated the people in that city and I didn't think the city had anything to offer me. I got bullied and mistreated all the time, and I didn't even like what I was studying so, I left. But then I had to leave the friends I made there behind.
When I left was when I decided to move to London -for studies. I left in 2010 and I think it's one of the hardest things I've done in my life. I was crying throughout the whole flight. Imagine I had just turned 21 and I moved to a foreign country without any help, without any friends there. I don't think my friends in Greece realise how much I missed -and miss- them at times when I'm in London. My first year in London I was very depressed and I didn't really enjoy myself that much. Thankfully things changed on my second and third year. I was lucky to make really good friends whom I consider family.
When I returned to Athens I was missing my London family a lot. Many people have asked me: -But aren't you used to it by now? Missing people since you are in London for a couple of months and then in Athens for the rest of the year.
No, it never gets old, you never get used to it. I miss everyone equally and constantly when I'm away from them.
So 2013... I returned to London once more for a masters degree. That night of September when I had to say goodbye to my crew in Athens I was ready to cry. Well, I was already crying inside. It's an awful thing to grow away from people you care for. You both go on with your lives and follow different paths. There's always that danger that your paths will never meet again even if you return. It has happened to me before and believe me, it's unbearable.
The first months after my return in London have been a roller coaster: accommodation problems, struggling with my masters, trying to adapt once again, partying, crying, depression, drama, reunion of the family...
I have no clue what 2014 is gonna bring me. I'm hoping a masters certificate and health first and foremost.
But I don't even remember why I started writing this :P
Anyhow I wish for all of us to be healthy, happy, and learn how to focus on the positive things in our lives.
To all my mates in every fucking country they might be right now:
Be extreme and don't give two shits. Love yourselves and take care!
Rave on! :D
10/27/13
Pro-birthday Melancholy (?)
It's that time of the year again.
You know when you're gonna have a good b.day and you know when you're gonna have a bad b.day. I feel like this year the latter will be the case.
I could be wrong -I wish. However I highly doubt it.
25. . . what does that entail? that I will grow up? that I will find a job and start functioning like an 'adult'? that I will try to become 'mature'?
Fuck all that. I don't want to 'grow up', I don't want to get a job that will pay me just enough to pay for my rent and go to my job, I don't want to stop getting pierced and tattooed, I don't want to have 'normal' hair, I don't want to dress 'properly', I don't want to stop raving/partying/travelling/having a good time, I don't want to compromise my dreams/myself, I don't want to stop studying -ever- even though I might not even want to work on the field I studied, I don't want to lose weight -yep, there are some of us who don't want to even if 'society' says they should-, I don't want to watch tv, I don't want to follow orders or respect any kind of authority, I don't wanna conform to anything that isn't true to myself...
In a nutshell, I don't want to do anything I don't want to do.
You'd think that by the time someone is 25 they'd get a job and become part of the machine. I have no intention whatsoever to become part of any fucking machine, unless it helps the environment, animals, humans and spreads health and positivity. To my knowledge there is no such thing since "the machine" refers to something totally different.
Some of the people reading this might think I'm a very spoiled person. But before judging me for my persistence on only doing things I want to do let me tell you a couple of things first.
I strongly believe that to appreciate happiness you have to go through hell.
And I have been. I've been bullied, I've been stalked, I've been discriminated against, I've been cheated on, I've been attacked, I've been through some major health issues a number of which I will have to live with for the rest of my life, I've been suicidal, I'm ocd and bipolar -which many times leads to depression- and the list could actually go on a bit further, but I shall stop here.
Even my closest friends don't know most of the things I've been through and that has been my choice all along. Why? Because I don't want to focus on that. Because if I focus on the bad things I won't be able to live the good moments, and there have been plenty of them in my life as well.
However if I hadn't been through so much shit I wouldn't have been able to appreciate these good moments; I wouldn't have been able to foresee them coming and let myself indulge in them. I would have probably just ignored them.
Moreover I don't want to feed off misery. "You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness".* Yes, you can, but I don't want to. I choose life.**
I don't know when I actually made this choice. I think it happened somewhere along the way this year.
I have seen a major transformation in me the past couple years; an inner transformation.
Embracing your darkness without letting it devour your light isn't an easy task. I do have a long way to go -still- as I am naturally drawn to darkness, nevertheless I'm trying to find my light and have it co-exist with my darker side. The darkness being the inspiration, and the light being the motivation.
So no, I won't succumb to the trap of 'growing up'; of working to make money for someone who doesn't give a shit about you and makes 100 times what you make without working as hard; of dressing in a certain way I don't like; of acting a certain way I don't like; of not using my brain; of not being creative and artistic; of not studying whatever the hell I want, just because I want to acquire knowledge; of eating gmo food; of not loving myself etc.
This article/confession/who-knows-what-the-hell-it-really-is started off as a very negative piece of writing. And here comes the bipolar effect when one second you're laughing, next you're crying and vice versa.
I don't know how tomorrow will play out. I'm hoping for the best, expecting both the worst and the best and just wish for health and happiness. For me, for you, for everyone.
Happy birthday to me,
P.S
* lyric from the song 'Somebody I used to know'
**phrase from the movie 'Trainspotting'
You know when you're gonna have a good b.day and you know when you're gonna have a bad b.day. I feel like this year the latter will be the case.
I could be wrong -I wish. However I highly doubt it.
25. . . what does that entail? that I will grow up? that I will find a job and start functioning like an 'adult'? that I will try to become 'mature'?
Fuck all that. I don't want to 'grow up', I don't want to get a job that will pay me just enough to pay for my rent and go to my job, I don't want to stop getting pierced and tattooed, I don't want to have 'normal' hair, I don't want to dress 'properly', I don't want to stop raving/partying/travelling/having a good time, I don't want to compromise my dreams/myself, I don't want to stop studying -ever- even though I might not even want to work on the field I studied, I don't want to lose weight -yep, there are some of us who don't want to even if 'society' says they should-, I don't want to watch tv, I don't want to follow orders or respect any kind of authority, I don't wanna conform to anything that isn't true to myself...
In a nutshell, I don't want to do anything I don't want to do.
You'd think that by the time someone is 25 they'd get a job and become part of the machine. I have no intention whatsoever to become part of any fucking machine, unless it helps the environment, animals, humans and spreads health and positivity. To my knowledge there is no such thing since "the machine" refers to something totally different.
Some of the people reading this might think I'm a very spoiled person. But before judging me for my persistence on only doing things I want to do let me tell you a couple of things first.
I strongly believe that to appreciate happiness you have to go through hell.
And I have been. I've been bullied, I've been stalked, I've been discriminated against, I've been cheated on, I've been attacked, I've been through some major health issues a number of which I will have to live with for the rest of my life, I've been suicidal, I'm ocd and bipolar -which many times leads to depression- and the list could actually go on a bit further, but I shall stop here.
Even my closest friends don't know most of the things I've been through and that has been my choice all along. Why? Because I don't want to focus on that. Because if I focus on the bad things I won't be able to live the good moments, and there have been plenty of them in my life as well.
However if I hadn't been through so much shit I wouldn't have been able to appreciate these good moments; I wouldn't have been able to foresee them coming and let myself indulge in them. I would have probably just ignored them.
Moreover I don't want to feed off misery. "You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness".* Yes, you can, but I don't want to. I choose life.**
I don't know when I actually made this choice. I think it happened somewhere along the way this year.
I have seen a major transformation in me the past couple years; an inner transformation.
Embracing your darkness without letting it devour your light isn't an easy task. I do have a long way to go -still- as I am naturally drawn to darkness, nevertheless I'm trying to find my light and have it co-exist with my darker side. The darkness being the inspiration, and the light being the motivation.
So no, I won't succumb to the trap of 'growing up'; of working to make money for someone who doesn't give a shit about you and makes 100 times what you make without working as hard; of dressing in a certain way I don't like; of acting a certain way I don't like; of not using my brain; of not being creative and artistic; of not studying whatever the hell I want, just because I want to acquire knowledge; of eating gmo food; of not loving myself etc.
This article/confession/who-knows-what-the-hell-it-really-is started off as a very negative piece of writing. And here comes the bipolar effect when one second you're laughing, next you're crying and vice versa.
I don't know how tomorrow will play out. I'm hoping for the best, expecting both the worst and the best and just wish for health and happiness. For me, for you, for everyone.
Happy birthday to me,
P.S
* lyric from the song 'Somebody I used to know'
**phrase from the movie 'Trainspotting'
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