oh bugger off

yes, it's 4:41 am, and i'm still awake. i tried turning the lights off 41 minutes ago, but for some reason my mind is still humming. well, more than humming, but i'm definitely going to be sorry when nine am rolls around and i have to get my sorry arse out of bed to bring the paldi to her job interview. holy shitbucket.

anyway. the reason why i couldn't sleep? i realized how truly and utterly screwed i am. seriously. i just realized it. how daft (is that a word?) can i get? oh turnips.

the reason why i am utterly screwed, i come to find out, is that i can't do anything useful. yes, i want to be a writer... but i'm no damn good at it. that's right, folks, the truth. yes, i can pull off some good essays for english class and i can spit out some nice journalism pieces if i'm utterly forced to. but, seriously, that's the whole point. i'm not motivated.

i think something happened after freshman year. seriously. after freshman year, i stopped doing my homework, i stopped studying, i stopped caring, really. maybe i am an uber-genius because my grades didn't really fall because of it (not counting pre-cal and chemistry junior year... well, i guess i should count them...*sigh*). then, something happened again the beginning of senior year: i realized that i like learning. i just don't like doing it in stupidly, prattish ways (aka my whole life up until senior year). i really loved all my classes senior year (except keyboarding and world geography and economics), and i enjoyed learning in said classes and was actually doing my work again until, say, about february 2004. i'm not going to mention why.

anyway. i realized that i haven't really written much of anything this year. i'm not counting my journal... i mean, i haven't written any prose-ish poetry. and i realize that all my prose-ish poetry was all from my self-inflicted depression from sophomore and junior years. i totally was all depressed and crap about thinking that no one loved me and that i would be hated if i told everyone that i was wiccan. but, whatever. it was my fault, but some good inspiration came from it.

no, i am not saying that my writing was any good from those years. in fact, i'm not so sure it was. i mean, it's semi good to me, being the one who felt those emotions and such... but i'm sure it mostly sounds like teenage angsty crap to everyone else.

oh, and i've pretty much given up on ever actually writing (and finishing) a decent story. i used to write half-decent fan fiction... but that was fan fiction. and it was half-decent for freshman year... now it just sounds stupid and whiney and all. yeah.

but i realize that i can't make myself do shit. seriously. i have to seriously bribe myself to do some things... and there's just not enough i can bribe myself with. and... i feel like peter from office space. if i had a million dollars, yes, i would do NOTHING. well, not NOTHING... but i wouldn't work, that's for sure. i'd sit around all day and read books and listen to music and drive around and play on the internet... pretty much what i've been doing this summer.

yeah. i'm pretty surprised at myself (and proud or whatever) that i've finished so many "real" journals... seriously. before this long line of journals... i could never finish them... i have about a half dozen random journals in my room from before ninth grade where it just cuts off and it's like i died or something. but i wanted to be a better writer... and so i started writing in journals... everything. songs, quotes, events, emotions, etc. of course, i don't really write WELL in them... i just sort of pour it out... but whatever. it's kind of like how i write on this site... i don't capitalize things or punctuate very well, but ... i could if i wanted to... which i don't. uh... yeah.

anyway... i'm feeling kind of nervous about smith now. they have some sort of hideous "trial registration" going on now online that angers me. seriously. the smithie friends that i have talked to already "registered" on the first day. i haven't even looked at the sheet. i mean, i want to get really cool classes and all... i'm just not ready to go back to ... i don't know what i'm ready for... but for some reason, this whole fake "registration" made me angry.

but it's like, i have no skills. i only chose writing because i'm good at it and i like doing it. which is a good thing to choose, i guess. but... i'm not sure if it's a good thing when i've had writer's block for the past three years. or whatever.

why can't i motivate myself to write something? like really write something? not just the crap that i usually write... but something inspiring... something that i could make money with... something that would totally shine and would be true to who i am? WHY IS THAT SUCH A HARD THING TO ASK FOR?


				*star bright, star light* *oh bugger off*



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		WARNING: IT'S REALLY EARLY IN THE MORNING, AND I'M TIRED... SORRY IF THIS POST MAKES NO SENSE OR DISTURBS YOU IN ANY WAY. I PRETTY MUCH PAID NO MIND TO GRAMMAR OR CUSS WORDS. SORRY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!



		7.28.04 - currently 4:41 am yes, it's 4:41 am, and i'm still awake. i tried turning the lights off 41 minutes ago, but for some reason my mind is still humming. well, more than humming, but i'm definitely going to be sorry when nine am rolls around and i have to get my sorry arse out of bed to bring the paldi to her job interview. holy shitbucket. anyway. the reason why i couldn't sleep? i realized how truly and utterly screwed i am. seriously. i just realized it. how daft (is that a word?) can i get? oh turnips. the reason why i am utterly screwed, i come to find out, is that i can't do anything useful. yes, i want to be a writer... but i'm no damn good at it. that's right, folks, the truth. yes, i can pull off some good essays for english class and i can spit out some nice journalism pieces if i'm utterly forced to. but, seriously, that's the whole point. i'm not motivated. i think something happened after freshman year. seriously. after freshman year, i stopped doing my homework, i stopped studying, i stopped caring, really. maybe i am an uber-genius because my grades didn't really fall because of it (not counting pre-cal and chemistry junior year... well, i guess i should count them...sigh). then, something happened again the beginning of senior year: i realized that i like learning. i just don't like doing it in stupidly, prattish ways (aka my whole life up until senior year). i really loved all my classes senior year (except keyboarding and world geography and economics), and i enjoyed learning in said classes and was actually doing my work again until, say, about february 2004. i'm not going to mention why. anyway. i realized that i haven't really written much of anything this year. i'm not counting my journal... i mean, i haven't written any prose-ish poetry. and i realize that all my prose-ish poetry was all from my self-inflicted depression from sophomore and junior years. i totally was all depressed and crap about thinking that no one loved me and that i would be hated if i told everyone that i was wiccan. but, whatever. it was my fault, but some good inspiration came from it. no, i am not saying that my writing was any good from those years. in fact, i'm not so sure it was. i mean, it's semi good to me, being the one who felt those emotions and such... but i'm sure it mostly sounds like teenage angsty crap to everyone else. oh, and i've pretty much given up on ever actually writing (and finishing) a decent story. i used to write half-decent fan fiction... but that was fan fiction. and it was half-decent for freshman year... now it just sounds stupid and whiney and all. yeah. but i realize that i can't make myself do shit. seriously. i have to seriously bribe myself to do some things... and there's just not enough i can bribe myself with. and... i feel like peter from office space. if i had a million dollars, yes, i would do NOTHING. well, not NOTHING... but i wouldn't work, that's for sure. i'd sit around all day and read books and listen to music and drive around and play on the internet... pretty much what i've been doing this summer. yeah. i'm pretty surprised at myself (and proud or whatever) that i've finished so many "real" journals... seriously. before this long line of journals... i could never finish them... i have about a half dozen random journals in my room from before ninth grade where it just cuts off and it's like i died or something. but i wanted to be a better writer... and so i started writing in journals... everything. songs, quotes, events, emotions, etc. of course, i don't really write WELL in them... i just sort of pour it out... but whatever. it's kind of like how i write on this site... i don't capitalize things or punctuate very well, but ... i could if i wanted to... which i don't. uh... yeah. anyway... i'm feeling kind of nervous about smith now. they have some sort of hideous "trial registration" going on now online that angers me. seriously. the smithie friends that i have talked to already "registered" on the first day. i haven't even looked at the sheet. i mean, i want to get really cool classes and all... i'm just not ready to go back to ... i don't know what i'm ready for... but for some reason, this whole fake "registration" made me angry. but it's like, i have no skills. i only chose writing because i'm good at it and i like doing it. which is a good thing to choose, i guess. but... i'm not sure if it's a good thing when i've had writer's block for the past three years. or whatever. why can't i motivate myself to write something? like really write something? not just the crap that i usually write... but something inspiring... something that i could make money with... something that would totally shine and would be true to who i am? WHY IS THAT SUCH A HARD THING TO ASK FOR? i guess this might be like that falling-in-love thing... no matter how much you wish for it, it ain't never gonna happen. well, to me anyways. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME???!!!