I can’t stop quitting and I’m grumpy.

“What could I possibly say that’s of any interest to the world at large?” is the question I keep asking myself.  I do enjoy writing now and then but in between the fits and starts, I’m routinely overcome by the general noise of the internet.  How to say something of worth?  What can I say which hasn’t already been articulated with more skill elsewhere?

To a certain extent, the same applies to photography.  I make a decent image now and again, with friends sometimes saying, “Wow, you’re really good.”  But friends would say that, wouldn’t they?  Even the briefest nose around Flickr or more recently 500px, however, and it puts one’s so called skills into perspective.  It’s not just the quality of the work – there have always been master artists, but the sheer quantity of it.  Tens and tens of thousands of people are churning out amazing images every day.  And I come away thinking well what’s the point of adding more third tier images to the mash?

I look at the blogs some people write and they are so upbeat and affirming.  I want to be upbeat and affirming.  They tell everyone that, yes they too can make it in their oversubscribed field of endeavour.  “Listen,” they declare, “If this boy can make it, you can too.”  Can I?  Really?  I’m not sure make make it would even mean in my own context.

I guess I have some notion that I could become a self employed artiste or some crap, sticking it to the man by telling my corporate employer I’ve had enough of his job.  For the record my job is pretty good as jobs go.  People spend a lot of time and money to do what I do.  However a decade in any industry can rub a little of the shine off, can’t it?

So I find myself contemplating ways to scale up some kind of self employed business while scaling down my “work” commitments, all the while leaving my family unaffected financially.  Then I realise that’s quite an ask, so I become despondent and quit.  Again and again.  Let’s be clear, I have no excuse at all for despondency; my lot is good.  It happens all the same.

Occasionally some event or other will spur me to write on political grounds.  I will get all fired up and send angry letters to my local MP or David Cameron.  I always get a polite reply; either of agreement, saying that what can be done is being done, or telling me I’m wrong.  Then I continue about my business as normal.

During school, I discovered that playing the guitar was a good way to attract females.  A bit of Wonderwall and they were like moths to a flame – okay maybe not, but this geeky non sportsman finally felt like he had an angle.  In the sixth form I even played in a couple of bands.  I think we mainly sucked but it was a good laugh.  To this day I still strum the same old tunes a few time a week, thinking about the career in music that wasn’t.  Of course, the fact that I never bothered to put in the time and effort to achieve a standard which would make that possible, we shall ignore.

The common thread that runs through all of these, is one of quitting.  Try a bit.  See some moderate success after limited effort.  Quit before actually failing.

If you’re expecting me to do a Stephen Fry now and round this off with some nicely crafted prose, I must disappoint you.  This was mainly a splurge of thought to keyboard.  I want to be positive.  I want to write something that will improve the day of the reader.  I don’t want to be the angry internet ranter.  I have no excuse for being so.  The fact is that right now, I’m just a bit grumpy.