Confessional

For years my biggest problem, that causes me more and more concern, is...no, it isn't the all the more increasing probability of staying alone for the rest of my life; and it's not the never ending passive-aggressive one-step-forward-two-steps-back cautious parody of a relationship with my father; and it isn't my constantly growing revolt with "the average person" either...no.

...it is my failure to find my calling, my vocation, to find the one thing I am meant to engage with, something I am passionate about.

But the answer might have been in front of me for a very long time. Animals, of course - to take care of them, to protect them. Whether it's stray cats and dogs or wild animals - it's all the same, I love them all. I am ashamed to admit that I have been turning a blind eye to the truth for one very simple reason - it isn't well paid. And without a decent salary there will be no trips abroad, no concerts, no fun time. I am ashamed of myself, truly.

However, maybe not all is lost. I am only 42 meaning that I still have time to consider a different occupation. My concert time will soon be over anyway.