Sunday, July 17, 2011


I moved to Los Angeles about a month ago. I had gotten fed up with my job (or rather, some aspects that affected my job) and I realized that I was not doing the things or devoting enough time to the things that were important to me. So I quit and I moved to an entirely different city in the hopes that a physical change would initiate a mental change. And so I would be able to leave my job without too many awkward questions as to why. Relocation is a wonderful reason and I'm still relatively young enough to state that my impetus was "the spirit of adventure." It would have been much more difficult to quit, not have a job lined up and still stay in town.

I am currently studying game design and I am a writer. There, I said it: I am a writer. Because I had gotten so wrapped up in my job, I wasn't working on the craft of writing anymore and I was becoming even more withdrawn than usual. I also found my self looking at birds one day as they were flying past my window and wishing that I could be a bird (even if I am allergic to feathers) and fly very far away from the current situation.

I went from a one-bedroom to a studio and have pretty much cut my possessions in half in an effort to simplify (and make moving easier) my life. I cut my book collection from five bookcases down to two, and I feel that was the hardest cut of all. This is quite possibly the biggest change I have made in my life, but I believe it is an important one. I was drifting further and further away from myself and I needed to get back. This seemed like the best way for me to focus and grow back into myself. 

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