disjunct. odds. ends.
Apr. 8th, 2004 01:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aftertherocketsI feel like I'm at such loose ends lately. So many loose ends just flailing about.
I've watched the snow fall from my window, watched it cover the ground as the sun came up, as it turned from black to grey to blue to white. I saw thousands of footprints, betraying every step of every person who came by, no longer allowing their travels to remain invisible.
Somehow, it became April. Soon I will be old, soon I will die.
I'm rereading The Blind Assassin, because I love it so, and because I couldn't stomach The Waves. It's a lovely book. You should read it, especially if you are a writer.
I don't like being alone, but lately I'm having trouble with people. A disconnect. Nervous hands, fluttering voice. I want to embrace everyone I see while simultaneously running, fleeing, driving far away. I could leave, but I'll just stay.
Anti-feminists really bug me, especially when they're female, and I've been hearing and seeing a lot of them around me lately. How can you be a woman in today's society and not be a feminist? It's too late, I'm too tired to espouse any opinions right now, but maybe a post will be forthcoming.
I finished my story. I hate the ending. It's ridiculous and comes out of no where and then just ends abruptly. Maybe I'll just tell everyone that isn't the ending, but I don't know where to go yet. Or maybe I just won't show up for class for the rest of the semester and then they can't ever workshop it. Also, my characters are flat and boring, the storyline is boring and no one will care about it, and I don't even have any good description to make up for any of its problems. Writing is too stressful.
I should take a shower, clear my mind, go to bed. I need to get out of here. Out of Westminster, out of Maryland, out of my current life. If only for just a little while.
I've watched the snow fall from my window, watched it cover the ground as the sun came up, as it turned from black to grey to blue to white. I saw thousands of footprints, betraying every step of every person who came by, no longer allowing their travels to remain invisible.
Somehow, it became April. Soon I will be old, soon I will die.
I'm rereading The Blind Assassin, because I love it so, and because I couldn't stomach The Waves. It's a lovely book. You should read it, especially if you are a writer.
I don't like being alone, but lately I'm having trouble with people. A disconnect. Nervous hands, fluttering voice. I want to embrace everyone I see while simultaneously running, fleeing, driving far away. I could leave, but I'll just stay.
Anti-feminists really bug me, especially when they're female, and I've been hearing and seeing a lot of them around me lately. How can you be a woman in today's society and not be a feminist? It's too late, I'm too tired to espouse any opinions right now, but maybe a post will be forthcoming.
I finished my story. I hate the ending. It's ridiculous and comes out of no where and then just ends abruptly. Maybe I'll just tell everyone that isn't the ending, but I don't know where to go yet. Or maybe I just won't show up for class for the rest of the semester and then they can't ever workshop it. Also, my characters are flat and boring, the storyline is boring and no one will care about it, and I don't even have any good description to make up for any of its problems. Writing is too stressful.
I should take a shower, clear my mind, go to bed. I need to get out of here. Out of Westminster, out of Maryland, out of my current life. If only for just a little while.
