Haven't you ever felt that your big break is about to come, yet you know it's just an illusion? That's so me right now. I'm clueless, I'm disappointed, I'm mad and wanting to strangle someone, but, at the same time I know this was going to happen. I so knew the road would be trickier than expected. I know I'm not going to get what I think I rightfully deserve. I've been working for something for the past five years and I'm not going to get it, perhaps ever. It's funny, the Winter Olympics are on and every time they are around, I try to develop a Brechtian attitude about them, which is a huge contradiction in itself. Bertold Brecht developed a theory about the contemplation of art, he suggested that we should look at it, at least theatre, in a kinda scientific way, that is, not getting involved with it emotionally, but rather analitically, pointing out the flaws in society that arise out of the injustices of the market economy. Well, I love the Olympics, first, because I think the whole issue of winning medals is fun to watch, that is the irrational part of my taste, then, I guess I love to torture myself watching those who are exactly the opposite of me: they have great bodies, they've sacrified a lot to get where they are, or simply, some Olympians where born under a very lucky star. Everytime the Olympics come out, I tell myself that I won't get too involved with them as such. Yet, I always end up getting too caught up in the thing and sometimes I feel miserably, both for the athletes I had been cheering for, and for myself. Right now I'm trying real real hard to analitically look at what is going on in my life, in a Brechtian way, so to speak. I feel like I'm boiling inside. I feel a victim of the greatest injustice. I feel a great deal of emotion. I'm going to suffer for now, and then I will regroup. As much as I feel incredibly outraged, assaulted, misunderstood and understimated, I am cautious and too proud to just take defeat. I'll lick my wounds, again, and regroup, gather my forces and carry on with my goals.
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