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July 13th, 2007
| silence |
06:51 pm |
i crave it like a junkie, so i curl up my tail, do a little dance, and lay down in the dark corner that spawned a large portion of it all.
do you know how i got here?
random coincidence and the desire to be someone that would impress me.
i don't know what's going on. that's exactly what i said on myspace, and it's exactly what i've just said here. not what i wanted to happen. no room for repeat performance. this should be an encore not a rehash. i want to purge.
i want to purge.
(that means more than it says but not in some "i've got an eating disorder" way)
i've got a lot in me to get out. a lot of fear. a lot of feelings of inadequacy. a lot of desires and dreams and demands for myself and my world. i've got a lot in me to get out. i've already said that.
i don't know. reading writers write about writing always makes me feel a little sketchy. i realize now that somewhere deep inside of me i really do want to be a writer. i don't know exactly what that means. i don't know if it means i just want to be grown up published. i don't know if it means i want a stranger to know my name and appreciate my specific brand of diction. i don't know if it means i just want to complete all of this nonsense that i endlessly begin. i don't know if it means purpose or just practice.
but i'm lost in a tangent. i the writers thing... see. a lot of the writers i love, or maybe a better word is respect. a lot of the writers i respect relate to writing in some heady way. that is to say they say things like "this story is really about the blah of the blahblah dealing with their issues of blahness" or some such nonsense. and i'm not like that. i mean, maybe somewhere underneath it all, i could analyze what i've created and come up with those theories. madness and Creativity... it's about demons, it's about finding yourself, it's about the lengths someone will go to in an effort to find out who they are? something like that? it's a stupid girl story? it's a writer story? it's a watered down fuck poem?
the point is, i don't think "hey.. I'd really like to write a story that highlights the blah of the blahblah dealing with their issues of blahness". i'm not psychological in creation. that's not to say that there isn't a good bit of psychology involved in what comes out--i'm kind of schizophrenic when it comes to my ability to become the inner dialogue of a stranger...
but..
i don't know. the disjunct between my creation and the creation of the writers who are writing about writing makes me think i'm not serious. (not that i'm not serious about creation but that i'm always going to be a writer and never a Writer--i've got the voice but i'm never going to do anything serious enough to make it worth anyone's while)
and what does this have to do with the price of beer in china? well nothing really except that it was a recent regurgitation and i can still taste the bile in my mouth.
i know i have stories in me.
and i know i could write them all if i would only so choose.
but i don't know how to make it worth the while--i don't know how to out myself or how to leave the closet of creative masturbation. (cause when no one ever reads all the shit you're writing, that's kind of all you're doing. fucking yourself.)
other topics of interest...
time moving to quickly. it happens when i get back to regular work hours. even if i've got fridays off. inevitable. the trap of playing grown up. i don't have enough time to do everything i want to do and still get the sleep that makes me feel like i'm in control of what's happening.
and my eyes are really going to shit.
all my nails are breaking.
it's hot today because i wasn't as careful as i've been all week.
this wasn't just about writing, but everything else always dissolves when i start there--and that's always the easiest place to start. i think it's just that purge=write and right now write=big thinking/serious talk.
i do want to teach... but do i want to teach more than i want to write?
there's another whole issue of me wondering if i'm even old enough to teach. i mean... yeah. i do not come off as old enough to teach--at least not in my own mind. but then i just realized that all of my 19 year old friends look to me for guidance. i guess that's some sort of endorsement.
i really want to be a good teacher. i mean, i want to give kids mad grammar skills, but i also want to reassure them and encourage them and push them. i want them to see that life is more than just a series of schools. high school is not just about preparing for college which is just about preparing for career... they don't need to get lost in a sea of tomorrows. i don't want kids living for their future. yeah, keep it in mind, strive for the best, but don't sacrifice today in the name of tomorrow. and don't lose your education in a struggle to pass a test to get in somewhere else. education should be about more than tests. it should be about intellectual growth. and yes, maybe i sound overly idealistic. that's never going to change--school systems may beat me down and kill my resolve to change, but i'll always believe that there should be more. hopefully i'll always believe hard enough to keep trying...
blah.
i just want to read and relax and kiss my boyfriend.
i don't know what's going on.
at my lit nerd party months ago one of the profs was having a different conversation and said something about not being able to write anything worth reading while they were teaching. i can see how that might be true, but it doesn't ring right with me. (add it to the list of things that make me question whether or not i'm really a writer). i can see wanting to give 100% to students. they deserve nothing less. but giving 100% to students does not necessitate a death to creation. i guess for me, the more experiences i'm having--the more people i interact with, etc--the more the writing just kind of floods out of me.
i guess that's what's going on...
i don't know what kind of writer i am, and until i figure it out, it's just going to be a big pile of "i don't know what's going on"
but john's going outside
i'm inclined to join him.
more on this later
(or never. we all know how lazy i am.)
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