July 1st, 2009

confused, angry

This is ridiculous.

Thought experiment. You want an apple.

So you go to the store. There are a variety of apples there. They all taste kind of similar, some slightly more to your taste than others, but there's a lot of each. Some of the types of apples are known to go bad really quick, and otherwise they're pretty much indistinguishable from the rest of the mess of apples.

So, why would anybody go for one of the risky apples?

If you grasp this metaphor, you can see why, with well over a hundred emails and several dozen phone calls, I've not secured a place in Boston. I'm a risky apple, and that risk is easily avoidable: I don't have employment there. I cannot unless I have a place there. You see how cyclical that thing is.

This cannot be done playing it straight, as it were. I'm going to need some black magic. I don't know what that is yet. If I don't succeed in this, I'll be homeless, without a vehicle, and without any sort of support. I will have gone from a fully functioning member of society to a transient because of a quirk in a housing market. (I wouldn't be the only one. Exactly this has happened to many thousands of people, and it's going to get worse.)
confused, angry

On competing with one-self:

Paul McCartney was asked if he ever compared his works that he now does with what he did when he was with The Beatles. He said that the only reason he can still write songs is that he stops himself from doing that. If he finished something and said things like, "Well, it's not Eleanor Rigby", he would no longer be able to write anything.