Really contemplating....

I've been looking at myself really hard and asking myself: really?!?
Nothing right now is making me happy, everything (in my mind) feels wrong. My voice, is not coming out. My soul has nothing to believe in. Trying to find the right words, the right speech to make things out, instead anger and frustation comes out and scares away people.
In one case, thinking that I am crazy and need to be on medication.
Everyone is medicated, numbing themselves in believing that they can be content rather than face the fact: things are hard, you're going to have to deal with it. No ammout of booze, lust or even perscription will make this go away.
I'm aware of my situation, giving me a pill will make me deal with my emotions. However, the problem will still be unresolved. I can't live with that. I'm the type of person looking for answers, in the meantime I'm trapped in situations that (in theory can be resolved) however...
I'm afraid that either I'm going to fall flat on my face or (the greater fear)
that I might actually succeed.
It's like playing the lottery, we believe in the idea that it could happen and we keep trying, but what if...
I've been hearing the what if over and over, playing my numbers and knowing that it will never happen. Wasting my four dollars per week on a supposive solution, yeah right.
Yeah right that I can actually make it as a photographer and get out of my coffee shop job and move out of my folk's apt and get on with my life.
My doubts have trapped me into the situation above, the holder of a Bachelor of Arts who has been published and paid, overqualified in the art of latte making. My parents are old, that scares me thinking that if I win my lottery, it'll be too late for them to enjoy.
So far the words are still the same, still no answers.
I guess I can break it down this way:
-I hate my minimum wage job because I think I'm better than it, yet I'm still there dealing with stupid and stupid only.
-I work at a student paper with more politics (and more exciting) than what is happening in Ottawa (yet I think we have a better chance at a better fiscal solution).
-I don't trust my friends who can't be there for me as I am there for them, listening to them word for word (as I think they're afraid that they won't be heard either). The dominating type who are even more alone if they don't have someone in the room, the type to take charge but no one wants to march with them.
-My family...I don't talk about them in this however, they are core to me but I don't know if they're good for me (right now).
There are situations that have solutions however where to start? And is there room for me, my voice, my eyes and my heart in this?
I've been looking at this long and hard, asking what a 29 year old is doing stuck in this vicious cycle. I can't keep doing this. Don't you think it's about time that there is a solution...
or do I keep playing lottery tickets.

Where did I go...I guess I'm back.

It's taken me a few days to think about this.
Where did I go, here I am. It's the 27th day of the New Year and I've returned (somewhat) to seeing things the way I used to. Well, attempting. Long story short, haven't been myself in months, I've been doing the things I've been doing, just not with heart and soul (no voice too).
Consider me the prettiest doormat in the city, no longer the ATM machine like I was before.
I missed out on commentary and experience such as the many elections endured, one more democratic than the other (while down South has become "Obamafied") her sister of the North is now a big fat joke with shaky Govenment, sliding economics and a shattered reputation.
How the tables have indeed turned.
Been out of the loop in the Montreal scene, full of more hipsters, trendoids and holes in the brain (more than ever). I then wonder if these people think they're better than me when they can't order coffee properly, I think then I may be the most overqualified person in the room and yet I still buy Apparel and look so normal.
I had a friend comment that the Plateau/Mile end have the worst dressers he's seen in this country, come on people: wear (proper) pants. Or simply wear pants.
In the last while I've lost respect to the elitists and the deadbeats (as to me) are the same: treat me like I'm second rate yet are useless without a mate to put down or make them look good. I lost a friend in between girlfriends as I was the in between in a thing we call an "open relationship".
Jerkface has now replaced douchebag in my books.
For a while I didn't feel like drawing, writing this blog and slowly taking pictures will be on that list (these are the "Big Three" of what keeps me going). Without these, I'll be the norm that is at my job during the morning shift, mudane talk of deadbeat boyfriends, wishing to do other things than watching TV and yes, hockey.
For my two cents about this: the Habs are good, Kovalev is not a bum, we're not going to get Lecavalier, if you don't know who the Hell is Jean Beliveau or anything reguarding the history of this franchise then you're a faux fan to me. Out of my face please.
You can guess that lately I've been angry, angry can work on many levels. Here, I'm choosing to put it out there rather than take it out on someone (mainly Jerkface, you can see why I'm pissed).
Mainly because I thought I was going to be hampered by my sh**ty wrist that plagued me last summer, made me misrable and not myself. Now, I'm doing what I can to not let this win, by writing, drawing, taking pictures (even if it bothers me a little). So far, so good via this blog.
I'm slowly getting back, I don't know if this will be consistant. However, the good news is that I'm trying and will keep trying till I feel that I've gotten my point across: as a person, as a friend, as a photographer, as someone creative.
As me.
I guess I'm back to work.