one week in

it's been nearly one whole week since "the free time" has begun. i can't say it's been joyous all week, it's really hard to have days with nothing planned to do. my life used to depend so much on schedule and things to do that having not much planned (except work shifts) is like falling in a lake from 1000m of altitude.

there's an odd feeling i can't shake off: the feeling of unreality. since i moved back, i have had this sensation of things, life, everything not being completely real. it just might be the pernicious consequence of all that's been happening, or just the continuation of the confusion left by my autumn schooling, i don't know. everyday feels padded, odd, slightly off-center. i still can't really find myself. very much like a maelström i'm spiraling down. i have no idea where my art is going or even what my art is. again, i feel i don't know anything anymore; i know myself even less.

i even started doubting my capacities at art. am i really an artist? was that all a fluke? confusion doing it's thing again. deep down i know that i am not made to work in any other field than the arts, but i guess i have to convince myself, or find some form of direction...