we are all made of stars

Moby's not especially popular among my generation peers, but that eponymous track has been a reccuring musical theme throughout my short existence. It was used in a 2005 Schweppes-ad, whose tagline was "Don't judge by apperances", showing a fighting dog that had saved human lives.

I aspire to be like this pittie. Giving my life to my family, friends and local community, perhaps to make up for the lost time where I've acted like a self-absorbed bitch. It's a behavior I adopted throughout the past month, to the point of begging my own father to beat me up. Just to feel pain for a valid reason. He thankfully did not comply to my orders. The reasoning behind these breakdowns reamin mysterious. Seasonal depression? ADHD meltdown? Bipolar state? Whatever. As I grow older, it's up to me to manage it on my own. The day where a decent psychiatrist will settle in this shithole won't come anytime soon, anyways.

Life In The Shithole is inspiring me a novel. In my native language, of course. French allows me to explore the different speech levels our strange language has. As a foreigner, I can't allow myself to use a more familiar language while typing in English, as I would naturally not understand all the nuances and sociohistorical circumstances that surround it. I would sound fake - not valid. Regardless, this novel about the overlooked aspects of being an outcast youth in the countryside might fill for a void publishers have been looking for. Who knows. Meanwhile, these writing urges are the stars that lit up my path.

I have found a part-time accounting position. My creative soul doesn't get any nourishment from there, but at least, I make some money, and meet new people. No complains over my colleagues, who are outgoing and accepting. They even praise my qualities. For someone who never studies accounting, I am very proud of my own progress. This position may lead me to finally settle alone, either in a flat shrade with my best mate, or alone, no matter what, it will be great. This future opportunity is the other light found on my way.

The news are bleak, as usual, news are bleak by definition, for economical reasons. That's what led me to finally turn off Twitter, and open myself to the dim light of everyday people. Each day makes me acknowlege how lucky I am to live in such a pretty place, with warm and welcoming people. A drastic change from the impersonality of the city. This place makes me feel like I can accomplish my dreams, just like that Afghan dude told in the mic of our local radio station last week. So little youngsters for such a big territory that craves change in order to survive. We'll make our future a reality, a fairer, more diverse, more active society, where people work hard to improve their conditions instead of dwelling on it over a glass of whiskey, or blame their insatisfaction on Others.

Meanwhile, I also work hard on myself through spirituality. Yoga, meditation, journaling. It all stemmed from Hitomi Mochizuki's videos ; one of the rare times the term "influencer" doesn't bear a negative meaning. Influencers are only worth being called like this when they influence their viewers into bettering, improving, or loving themselves ; otherwise they're mere sandwich ads, or apostles of negativity. But we're not here to describe the state on online celebrities. My mind feels more stable, and I've lost a few pounds since I started doing yoga every day. Truly a magical practice, once you put your heart and breath into it. Done as a regular exercise like I used to do, it doesn't have much worth. Nowadays, I set myself positive intentions and stick to it. My nineteen years old self would be proud, and that's all I ca dream for myself.

2021 was about renuncing. May 2022 be about welcoming. We are all made of stars and I hope the future proves me right. Before 2021 ends, I hope my post inspires some fellow lost soul that could lurk on there.

We will get out of there. Let's focus on the light, no matter how dim it is.