Universe shoots me with this question for days now. What is my purpose in this life? I have “simple” skills, complete daily duties and exists. Yes, that’s the word for it – I exist. At least that’s what my “friends” like to repeat to me like mantra – you don’t live, you just exist! That is, when they halt from their usual path and instead of tossing me a hello and telling me whom they are going out with now and how that’s why they can’t take time off and chat more. And if they do, almost every one of them sees it as their duty to remind me that I need to live!
If repeated often enough, one begins to believe it. Perhaps there is indeed a hint in their ways? That I seem to sit still while they brush past me with meager acknowledgment of my existence in the same time and space. Some would say – they’re not your friends in that case, nothing more then acquaintances. True. They are passer-byes, whom I have no more expectations than a rock in the corner. Actually, now that I think of it, I have more expectations from that rock.
I suppose they are right. I don’t live, I exist. I exist when they need it. Sometimes it scares me to know by fact that I can go without talking with any of them for months and not one of them would seek me out or ask if I was fine. I feel like that woman from the “What women want”, who was planning suicide, because nobody cared. Well, I’m not planning any, but I do feel just as left out. Perhaps it has something to do with Valentine’s Day, the Woman’s Day, which both went without any acknowledgment, and not receiving my order of my own work.
Which, by the way, I am not dealing with any more before I get any contact and get it sorted. Probably some thing going on I’m not aware of. Like usually.
“Don’t let it perk up your nose!” was what one of my writing friend told to me. That came from one, who has published his book already and went around half a year talking nothing more than about his book. I have 3 page story. In a magazine I have no copy of and the only proof I have it ever happened is e-mail. Indeed a lot to perk my nose up on!
But it did make me wonder what my purpose is? Publish books? Not likely. To write? Besides myself, anybody else in the readers list? Finish school? That has been struggle from beginning to the end and so far has no good purpose what so ever. Even my doctor wanted to know how much more I was to study and I felt like tossing it to her face and say it was none of her business. Hmh, the info on my card still says I am student in HTG. That was… a decade ago? I don’t even bother with that anymore – why keep repeating I even have new place I live if it never gets on the card?
In the light of all this, I don’t think the A to Z Challenge will happen. I will put up stories I have so far, but it’s just… Pointless. Like nano is pointless. Like writing that story is pointless if I can’t get any beta readers! Edit what? So I would have another long dead-end story sitting on my bookshelf that is past its time?
So what is my purpose? I am devalued with skills that don’t fit in the modern era. I am a tool, a caretaker. Caretakers are not remembered in big books. They are the background noise with no more purpose in life than the object they are working for at that particular moment.
Well, I do have 9 short stories that need a home. They’ll appear on the writing’s page soon enough. Just not under the challenge. ‘Cause there’s no challenge in writing like that.