Sunday 3 May 2009

Bank Holiday in the East End

I have a terrible pain. I think I have injured myself again. Too much running or cycling or something. Hip in agony and pain spreading down my leg.

So I must force myself to rest. This must be a Bank Holiday weekend of job applications and research and getting used to being in the new flat.

Outside are constant noises; familiar London peeps, sirens, honks, engine rumbles, clip-clopping shoes, screeches, shouts. The flat also has its own weird sounds - creaking pipes, rattles, bubbling boilers, footsteps up above, echoes etc.

These are the early days. I haven't been rejected from anywhere yet so the opportunities presenting themselves seem boundless. The recession has little to do with my life yet while I live in this bubble of hope and while I am enjoying seeing friends, reading the news and contributing (all to frequently) to various social networking sites.

While I was in Japan, Malaysia and Singapore I was on holiday, with a view to becoming a writer. In the Philippines I thought about making films. In Thailand I considered starting a PhD on my return. In Cambodia and Laos, I thought I was losing my mind. In China, I was longing to get to Australia. In Australia I found I was pretty good at finance and law. Now after New Zealand and California I am back trying to be determined, trying to be steady and decisive.

Writing has my heart but I do not have enough focus (or financial means) to write a novel now. Broadcasting is what I am trained to do and the career with which I define myself. The extrovert in me is desperate to put things out there, make programmes, share stories with the world and help others know truth, while the fragile child-like imp is hurt by criticism, stung by knock-backs, consumed by fear and longing to be approved of, valued, given directions and told that everything is going to be OK.

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