Regardless of the positions i have so far fulfilled in my short life, a permanent unauthorised niggling hides inside me. Never being able to uncover the reason of the niggle i proceeded to commit as always 100% to my jobs.
I open my eye, exposing myself to the world. For sure, i will embrace this day and i will conquer the tasks passed my way.
My main concern was, and still is (purpose).
When i was growing up, i was surrounded by a family of workers and automatically i assumed it was normal to, just get a job. As long as i could pay the bills that bombed the doormat everyday, things would be alright, that’s what i thought anyway.
Some jobs, i admit, i hated. Most on the other hand i have thoroughly enjoyed. But still i was targeted by the niggle. The niggle ate away at me like a cancer and there was no cure for the niggle. I had no answer.
Day after day for years and years the niggle invaded my soul, lurking, below the surface. There was a question there for me, i just did not have a clue what it was.
I wanted to be a million things in this life, if only i could just work out the one true purpose of my being.
Time passed and times changed, and so did the jobs. The more i searched the employment sections the worse the niggle became. At first i thought the niggle was frustration, but i was only angry with myself. Angry because i could not find the cure for a question i did not know.
One thing i did know though was that there was no way i was living my life in the same lane as everybody else. The niggle mauled away and laughed in my face and the gears would never change up so i could switch lane. I was moving through life in a slow motion.
This life so far has used me for its personal gain, and i have let it. I have been a slave to the everyday life of working, like millions do, for someone else. I have to do this, i have no choice, or so i thought.
The older i got, the more i wanted. The want was only achievable with cash and i obviously worked harder to get what i wanted. I was never in love though, not truly, work was work.
Then one day my life took on a game changer, and i moved countries. Just like that. Gone. That move changed me, and all of a sudden i wanted to be smarter. Not only smarter, but educated.
The enchantment of being surrounded by multiple languages was quite breathtaking and annoying at the same time. Some people i know speak five and more and i wanted to know more. Self taught education became my new priority.
Learning a new language baffled me, i just could not absorb the words and get them to stay in my mind. In one ear and out the other, followed by the niggling, crippling my genius.
Again, the searches into employment were just clicks on a screen, and then i realised something. The realisation was, that as much as i was educated in the real world of living, i never had one certificate to prove anything that i was worth.
For the first time in my life i wished i had studied when i was at school instead of clowning about.
The panic gripped me. I now had a niggle and a panic, a terrible panic and no direction. Thoughts of what i would be doing in my life up to the grand old age of retirement haunted me. There was no possible way that he, who deals the cards, dealt me only jokers, surely not.
Time again moves on,leaving me stranded on the platform without a ticket to continue on my travel.
Long lists of qualifications appeared after the job descriptions and every-time, i shit out.
The strangest thing happened in the summer of 2016, and a tragedy tore my life to pieces. Those pieces of my life were scattered to every corner of the universe.
After withdrawing myself from the gauntlet of life, stress of the brain felt like an explosion, a meltdown was looming.
So i read more and i drew more, but still the irritating niggle beat down on me. Kicking my arse at every turn.
I could not tell you how, or why, but, instead of drawing, i began to write.
All of a sudden my arm just did not want to stop writing. I wrote down just about anything and everything that was on my mind. I would write tales and stories about my life, good and bad.
The writing stopped me reading, but i just could not help myself, i was becoming addicted to the ink and paper. Book after book i filled. Then i moved.
This time, the move was to a caravan in a forest in a off-gridder kind of way. i was all of a sudden, Bear Grills. After some time in the caravan, something hit me.
The niggling had stopped, just like that. The seriousness was that i now could not believe that my writing was the cause.
Since that time elapsed, i have never stopped writing. I feel great, fantastic, free. The pressure that used to pound away in my head has gone and i feel at ease with myself.
I am confident that writing was what the niggle wanted to tell me.
Working a shitty 9 to 5 is still on the cards for me at the moment, but i now feel my love, and i will fight tooth and nail to change my life for the right reasons this time.
All i see now is that i want to be a writer, an author. Seeing my work in print, with my own two eyes………… That is my dream.