shaku and stiring

I have been on a rollercoaster of emotions lately, with the instability mostly attributed to the hours I have been keeping. When I get overtired everything seems so heavy. I think it would help my condition if I try not to take things so seriously. If I am destined to have a writing career, it will happen on its own. Me pushing too hard is not yielding very good results.

I am satisfied with what I have written so far. I have been approaching my writing with a optimistic and positive eye, but I think I need to temper the positivity with a bit of the negative. After all, not everything I see is agreeable. I have been sort of ignoring what I think is completely pretentious and of poor quality.

I am gaining invaluable experience in the fashion industry. I have no one to coach me, and unfortunately I must go about this completely cold. I think that I am doing very well so far, considering the lack of experience. I am trying to meet and talk with as many people as possible.

After AIFW is finished, I plan to continue the journalism on my own. I will have to seek out events to report on, on my own. Doing that I think will be what puts me on the writing globe.

I think also that copywriting would be much less stressful, and I wouldn't have to deal with the flighty people. But the problem with that is: I love fashion! And I noticed that I felt completely comfortable attending the shows. This all happened so quickly. I wished I had time before to make new pieces for myself to wear. I am just making due with my old rags, but at least they are the rags of my own hands. That feels especially good. I am actually at a place where there is a high chance of meeting someone like me in that regard.

I will try to keep an open mind and be as calm and relaxed as possible, and it will work itself out, somehow. I just hope my editor still wants to work with me, the problem child. I had a serious melt down last night that I am not proud of. I only hope I haven't soured any of the fresh relationships that I am trying to forge.

This is niether the beginning nor the end of my writing career. I think it has only yet to begin.

This is all just a warm-up. Stretching the rusty fingers and massaging the matter.