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"I'm scared crapless"

I apologise for this, as this belongs in the life forum, but I can't post there at the moment, and I really need to write.

I've been concerned for the longest of times about what I could do in life. Computer games was never an option. I had to be a scientist, a vet... I needed business studies, two B's and a C. Even Key Skills is acceptable, come for an Open Day.

And twirling around in my head was this thought that perhaps all these grades, all these brochures that thousands of other kids will be looking at... "You're good at computers, why don't you study I.T. in college?"

And through all this time I've watched, learned, and pondered... but I've never questioned. I've never asked why.

Why exactly do we have to go into jobs like this, isn't there anything else?

I have a story that won't take too much of your time, some of you may have heard before.

It was on the verge of the beginning of the third chapter, if we say that the first is a story with no words... I was recovering from my suicide attempt, finally making peace with myself, but still with no idea if I was to live or die.

Blond haired doodlers surround me, asking what I want to be in life. I've never really taken it seriously, other than saying the obvious "alive" answer... and it now finally came to a Government scheme.

We tick boxes to see who we are, another of those "catagory B" things, where everybody can be narrowed down into groups. Hell, forgive me for thinking that perhaps we are that extra bit different, but it seems work does not comply with those rules. The leaders and the workers... nobody inbetween.

Tick boxes. 1 for "dislike the most" and 5 for "enjoy the most"... questions like "Working with animals", "Scrubing the feet of old people", "Wondering why you're sat behind a desk doing nothing for most of your life"...

29 smiles surround me, ticking in unison, asking what everyone else put.

Sorry, no... I don't want to bath old people. I don't have any concern with being outside or inside. I don't want to kill someone, and I most definitely do not want to have to stick my arm up a cow. Probably a strange experience, but not as a job, thanks.

Like a room full of jars, simply waiting to be labelled, we sat once more, and the rest of the class recieves a printed paper, with percentages for their most likely jobs. Some get 93% Doctor, 84% fashion designer, 32% politics campaigner.

I wonder why mine wasn't handed out, and go to see the teacher.

"The computer couldn't do yours. It just printed out "error"."

Error.

"What are you going to be, Mark?"

"A doctor."

"What about you, Chris?"

"I'm going to run my own business."

"Darren?"

"I got an error."

ERROR. If I get rich, famous, and I've got a good enough story to tell... when I do my autobiography, that's going to be my title.

Two or so years on, I'm sitting at my desk typing this. And it's beginning to sink in.

No longer can I learn anything from my school, which isn't anyone's fault but my own. I don't fit in with this exam business. I don't fit in with college, and I certainly don't fit in with any job you're likely to get with all those wonderful things. I'll be proud to never get them, not because I'm Fred Durst, but because I believe there is more to life than being judged by how much you can learn before you get bored.

So that's what I'm doing. I'm leaving school.

So rash, oh so rash. But this is the end of the story, and I've yet to tell you the middle.

After my error, I tried to find something that at the very LEAST I could enjoy. It was difficult. Very difficult.

I had the stories on here. That was a start... I enjoyed them, and I knew if I worked hard enough I could become good with them.

But no... words were never my strong point. I love to read all the fascinating words that people use... the ones you have to look up in a dictionary to understand... but to me, as a writer at least, that seems pointless. Communication is so much more important to me, and to get something across by using a simpler word, so more people can understand it, I'm much happier, and it's much easier.

However, simple words don't sell books. And it's a shame, because I for one am happy to read them, as long as the story is great and the characters appeal to me. I get a kick from it, usually in the teeth of one of my hidden emotions. That's always great.

Then was the film director, which my parents were very happy to hear. But, of course, logic came into that. I was doing Maths, Tech and IT at A-Level. How the hell could I do a course, and definitely, that was the only way out.

It was a combination of Edge and these forums that then sparked me off onto games design. I tried looking for things to do for college...

And then that question came back. The one that's going to haunt me for as long as I live, because of my inital refusal to ask it.

Why?

Why do I need to learn programming, when all I want to do is create worlds, and characters?

I'm an entertainer, a story teller. I'm not a mathematician, I'm not a programmer, and don't even tell me to count polygons.

So the job with Rareware that I'd considered for a long time seemed like a good option. The plan was, to make an animation... something I could use to improve my skills with, and hopefully, by the time I leave school, I'd be at a stage where I could compete with the best. And then, when I'm in, I might... *just* might, be able to work up to game designer. Be given a chance to make a game.

Why?

I now also know that's not going to happen. I have to be as calculated as I can... and through all the work I've done, and all the animating I've done... it's not for me. I love to design, and making the models is great fun, because I get a chance to speak my mind for a change... but then, I'm not very professional. I wouldn't be able to make low poly characters, or even animate FMV sequences. I can just about direct, but I can't make legs move, or heads stay the same size when someone is walking... I can hardly make mouths open and close to one word, for crying out loud. :0)

So, once again, someone else saves me, and I don't really have to think for myself so much. Rareware offer a new job.

Games Designer.

They want a CV, and a design brief of a game... The game I've been saving for a long time, the one none of you know about...

I've just about finished the brief. I've got to check it over, and I've got to make sure it's got everything I want to say on. I need to write a letter, something to catch their eye... not by making it pretty, but by explaing who I am without having to resort to all these crappy "when i was eight years old i fell over" things that I hate so much but feel compelled to write about.

I need a CV. I haven't done anything. I need to convince them that I'm capable of doing something like this...

This will be sent off as soon as possible. Perhaps even tommorrow. I'm back on the football field again, hoping I can be picked because they know I'll go in goal for them.

And once again, that dreaded question...

Why?

And for once, I can answer it.

The world is full of people with stories. Stories about how they did this, and how they did that... and everyone, everyone over a certain age, has the same story. They all do, and it upsets me.

"If only."

If I had done that, then I would be there. If I had done this, I wouldn't be here.

If I don't leave school, and if I don't apply for this job... and I mean, now, this second... I am going to lose my chance. And that CANNOT happen. Not to me, not to anybody. It shouldn't, and it can't.

I WILL get this job. This isn't something I'm telling myself to keep my confidence high... and it isn't an egotistical thing either. I'm not sure what it is. I can't even tell you why... but this time it's a good feeling, something that can't be explained... but in the same way, I know I'm on the right track. We're all here for a reason. I don't know what the reason is... it may not even be to make games, I'll see in years to come... but for once, at last, for once now, I feel I'm on the right track.

But I'm scared. Scared of change, scared of failure... and once again, I don't know why.

Good luck to you all... but whatever happens to me, now, I can't help but think this is the end of chapter three, short as it was.

God I'm scared.

I had even less idea that you, Grix.

I stayed an extra year at school, mainly so I could sort out my life, while doing some mildly trifling CPVE course that consisted of learning to write letters and wiring telephone systems in to the school rooms. And did I have any more idea of what I wanted to do when I left? Did I hell.

Back in those days, the goverment initiative was for the good ol' Youth Training Scheme to kick in if you couldn't find a job. As a last ditch effort I went into accounting. Now, I don't wish to seem disrespectful of accountants, but how in the name of sanity could anyone sit there and stare at numbers in books all day? I mean, it just nearly drove me insane.

I just gave up in the end and got all the figures wrong. I pretty much did this on purpose as an excuse to get out of there. It was then that I found work in a charity, believe it or not they actually pay people. I felt needed, the staff had virtually no IT knowledge (they didn't even know how to use the word processing software, for goodness sake!) and I was enjoying the rewarding work. Unfortunately the job wasn't a permanent one and I soon found that it ended and I was back to square one.

I've tried a few things since, I've gone back to college to do a computing course, been to Uni for four years and taught in schools. I'm now back to staring at numbers again, but at least there is a bit more variety this time.

What do I want to do? I still don't know. I really want to be a writer, but the motivation part is tricky. I would need to sit down for a couple of hours every day and write. I'd love to design games too, but probably wouldn't have the right qualifications.

So I don't have any answers, life is a mystery, as a famous songstress once sang, but I'll keep walking life's road. One day I'll see the bus that will take me where I want to go, and you can rest assured I'll be on it.

OK, mail it to me and I'll go over it for you again like that last time. (Hang on a sec, they turned you down last time I did that so maybe it's not such a good idea....)

:)

I know why you're scared too. Because you've set your heart on something, and you don't want to not get that something. You're also a bit scared of realising that the rest of your life is stretching out ahead of you and you're unsure what you'll be doing for the rest of it.

My philosophy on this is "be happy in your head and screw the rest of 'em" which is why books and games and films are so much fun for me, I learn a lot from seeing things I've never seen before.

Alternatively, look at it this way, it doesn't matter what you do now, because in 200 years, who's going to care?

BTW, I went through exactly the same thing in the 5th year at school where I filled in the same boxes. It came back with 'carpet fitter'.

20 years later, I was in a careers office, filling out the same form again for a reevalutation. It came back 'carpet fitter'. I'm now seriously considering this as an occupation, but unfortunately 40 hours a week of fitting carpets would prevent me from completing Final Fantasy 9 before Final Fantasy 10 gets released. (I'm all about priorities).

I apologise for this, as this belongs in the life forum, but I can't post there at the moment, and I really need to write.

I've been concerned for the longest of times about what I could do in life. Computer games was never an option. I had to be a scientist, a vet... I needed business studies, two B's and a C. Even Key Skills is acceptable, come for an Open Day.

And twirling around in my head was this thought that perhaps all these grades, all these brochures that thousands of other kids will be looking at... "You're good at computers, why don't you study I.T. in college?"

And through all this time I've watched, learned, and pondered... but I've never questioned. I've never asked why.

Why exactly do we have to go into jobs like this, isn't there anything else?

I have a story that won't take too much of your time, some of you may have heard before.

It was on the verge of the beginning of the third chapter, if we say that the first is a story with no words... I was recovering from my suicide attempt, finally making peace with myself, but still with no idea if I was to live or die.

Blond haired doodlers surround me, asking what I want to be in life. I've never really taken it seriously, other than saying the obvious "alive" answer... and it now finally came to a Government scheme.

We tick boxes to see who we are, another of those "catagory B" things, where everybody can be narrowed down into groups. Hell, forgive me for thinking that perhaps we are that extra bit different, but it seems work does not comply with those rules. The leaders and the workers... nobody inbetween.

Tick boxes. 1 for "dislike the most" and 5 for "enjoy the most"... questions like "Working with animals", "Scrubing the feet of old people", "Wondering why you're sat behind a desk doing nothing for most of your life"...

29 smiles surround me, ticking in unison, asking what everyone else put.

Sorry, no... I don't want to bath old people. I don't have any concern with being outside or inside. I don't want to kill someone, and I most definitely do not want to have to stick my arm up a cow. Probably a strange experience, but not as a job, thanks.

Like a room full of jars, simply waiting to be labelled, we sat once more, and the rest of the class recieves a printed paper, with percentages for their most likely jobs. Some get 93% Doctor, 84% fashion designer, 32% politics campaigner.

I wonder why mine wasn't handed out, and go to see the teacher.

"The computer couldn't do yours. It just printed out "error"."

Error.

"What are you going to be, Mark?"

"A doctor."

"What about you, Chris?"

"I'm going to run my own business."

"Darren?"

"I got an error."

ERROR. If I get rich, famous, and I've got a good enough story to tell... when I do my autobiography, that's going to be my title.

Two or so years on, I'm sitting at my desk typing this. And it's beginning to sink in.

No longer can I learn anything from my school, which isn't anyone's fault but my own. I don't fit in with this exam business. I don't fit in with college, and I certainly don't fit in with any job you're likely to get with all those wonderful things. I'll be proud to never get them, not because I'm Fred Durst, but because I believe there is more to life than being judged by how much you can learn before you get bored.

So that's what I'm doing. I'm leaving school.

So rash, oh so rash. But this is the end of the story, and I've yet to tell you the middle.

After my error, I tried to find something that at the very LEAST I could enjoy. It was difficult. Very difficult.

I had the stories on here. That was a start... I enjoyed them, and I knew if I worked hard enough I could become good with them.

But no... words were never my strong point. I love to read all the fascinating words that people use... the ones you have to look up in a dictionary to understand... but to me, as a writer at least, that seems pointless. Communication is so much more important to me, and to get something across by using a simpler word, so more people can understand it, I'm much happier, and it's much easier.

However, simple words don't sell books. And it's a shame, because I for one am happy to read them, as long as the story is great and the characters appeal to me. I get a kick from it, usually in the teeth of one of my hidden emotions. That's always great.

Then was the film director, which my parents were very happy to hear. But, of course, logic came into that. I was doing Maths, Tech and IT at A-Level. How the hell could I do a course, and definitely, that was the only way out.

It was a combination of Edge and these forums that then sparked me off onto games design. I tried looking for things to do for college...

And then that question came back. The one that's going to haunt me for as long as I live, because of my inital refusal to ask it.

Why?

Why do I need to learn programming, when all I want to do is create worlds, and characters?

I'm an entertainer, a story teller. I'm not a mathematician, I'm not a programmer, and don't even tell me to count polygons.

So the job with Rareware that I'd considered for a long time seemed like a good option. The plan was, to make an animation... something I could use to improve my skills with, and hopefully, by the time I leave school, I'd be at a stage where I could compete with the best. And then, when I'm in, I might... *just* might, be able to work up to game designer. Be given a chance to make a game.

Why?

I now also know that's not going to happen. I have to be as calculated as I can... and through all the work I've done, and all the animating I've done... it's not for me. I love to design, and making the models is great fun, because I get a chance to speak my mind for a change... but then, I'm not very professional. I wouldn't be able to make low poly characters, or even animate FMV sequences. I can just about direct, but I can't make legs move, or heads stay the same size when someone is walking... I can hardly make mouths open and close to one word, for crying out loud. :0)

So, once again, someone else saves me, and I don't really have to think for myself so much. Rareware offer a new job.

Games Designer.

They want a CV, and a design brief of a game... The game I've been saving for a long time, the one none of you know about...

I've just about finished the brief. I've got to check it over, and I've got to make sure it's got everything I want to say on. I need to write a letter, something to catch their eye... not by making it pretty, but by explaing who I am without having to resort to all these crappy "when i was eight years old i fell over" things that I hate so much but feel compelled to write about.

I need a CV. I haven't done anything. I need to convince them that I'm capable of doing something like this...

This will be sent off as soon as possible. Perhaps even tommorrow. I'm back on the football field again, hoping I can be picked because they know I'll go in goal for them.

And once again, that dreaded question...

Why?

And for once, I can answer it.

The world is full of people with stories. Stories about how they did this, and how they did that... and everyone, everyone over a certain age, has the same story. They all do, and it upsets me.

"If only."

If I had done that, then I would be there. If I had done this, I wouldn't be here.

If I don't leave school, and if I don't apply for this job... and I mean, now, this second... I am going to lose my chance. And that CANNOT happen. Not to me, not to anybody. It shouldn't, and it can't.

I WILL get this job. This isn't something I'm telling myself to keep my confidence high... and it isn't an egotistical thing either. I'm not sure what it is. I can't even tell you why... but this time it's a good feeling, something that can't be explained... but in the same way, I know I'm on the right track. We're all here for a reason. I don't know what the reason is... it may not even be to make games, I'll see in years to come... but for once, at last, for once now, I feel I'm on the right track.

But I'm scared. Scared of change, scared of failure... and once again, I don't know why.

Good luck to you all... but whatever happens to me, now, I can't help but think this is the end of chapter three, short as it was.

God I'm scared.