I decided to write while sitting on the edge of my bathtub. I am ankle deep in hot water and very relaxed at the moment. I don’t know if I’ll go to sleep tonight though. It depends on how words I type before two o’clock in the morning.
Why I don't have a diary. I write perfectly vague cathartic things that could never be used to blackmail me. A one word way to say it? Boring.
“I thought that I might do this again, though not nearly so frantically. Perhaps not as frankly either. I’m just fluffing up my word count. And why? Obviously to feel accomplished. I don’t feel like it’s cheating. I am writing after all. And I never did set out with a specific plot. I can’t keep this is a note to the reader, because that would be stupid. And clearly, if I’m not distressed I just jump around everything without coming to a single clear conclusion. (Actually, I do that anyway, deliberately going out of my way to not name names.)
Maybe I’ll get better at that. Next year it would be interesting just to have a character do this, talking about their life in a manner that’s so emotional. Though this hardly seems to be anything other than contained; my mind is working slowly today. Probably the lack of quick thought is in response to yesterday. The story would be under a veil of complete bias, but thinking of the possibilities is intriguing. And it seems that today I cannot spell the same words from yesterday. Muscles memory is misplaced and all that.
I should write later, and then I can sleep after. Right now, all I’d end up mentioning would be useless boring things, even to me. I still want to pack up, so I should really get on my excuse for a story. [November 26, 2011]”
trollolol By ‘appear’ I mean I look like I’m pregnant. But I’m not. I gained weight solely in my torso, around the stomach and boobs. This is both amusing and horrifying. I shall lose the weight (as soon as I go back to the dorms I’m hiding my Nutella somewhere).
It’s not terribly unusual for me to be in pain because of my stomach. So when I started feeling abdominal cramping (of a non period nature), I kind of just kept writing and ignored it. I really hope it was just moderate dehydration, because I downed a pint of water. I think it’s helping. On to writing.
Welp, my car has been impounded and I'm out of state.
And by the time I get back, I’ll be out $390 because it costs more every day. Whoever called in a complaint for me parking on a public street- I get it. I’ve been parked there since Sunday. But your small inconvenience has costed me far more than the money it’ll cost to bail my car out. I’ll be spending every penny I have on Monday jumping through hoops, I may have to call a cab to get to that section of town- and get this. I have classes. I guess this is real life, but I’m tempted to skip class on Monday to sort this out. I only have $160 dollars in my bank account…you can do the math I’m sure. I want to talk to the person who called in the complaint and tell them what this has done to me. I just wanted to have a normal, nice, Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to be near my family or have to work my ass off for a week. Well played real life.
(Only one of Liz's relatives annoys the shit out of me.)
Ironically, it seems that I dislike loud people. (Even though I myself am quite audible.) And I can hear him through my headphones with music playing. I hope turning up my music doesn’t damage my eardrums. It’ll take the edge off the uncontrollable volume of his mouth. Good god.
Thank you so much to all my followers. I feel all fuzzy inside.
Generally, I don ‘t bother with promos (let’s face it, I hardly make a ripple in the tumblr community) but this is my friend’s tumblr post. And it has a kitty gif. I think it’d be great if she got to fifty because of me. So, someone please check out her stuff? I find it amusing.
And again with the Freudian interpretation of my novel...complete crap of course.
“I want to say that this is all a dream, but it can’t be. Everything I’ve ever known is here, even my mother and father, telling me that ingratitude is unacceptable. I can’t say that I disagree, but I also would say that I’m not ungrateful- just tired of having to accept someone else’s hospitality and good will. There always seems to be some sense of obligation, even if it was completely one sided. I just wanted to be free.
And then I found out that there’s not really such a thing as being free of familial obligation. That obligation is odd in nature, spider web lines coating your skin. You can feel it, but no matter how much you struggle to clear it away, there will always be bits left, floating through your hair. And sometimes they’re blatant, like weight strapped around your ankles to keep you in place. Because you do have a place, and if you stray from it, that’s bad. Really terrible, in fact.
The worst part of it all is that you still love these people who hold you down. In some weird way, you love the version of them from before you knew any better. And that’s bad. Because, no one bothers to stay the same. They’re still themselves, and it turns out that you’re the one who has changed in all this time. And I wish that I hadn’t changed. Maybe if I could have been naïve and just plain stupid, I would never have realized how wrong they all were. It’s not okay to get in the way of someone’s goals “just because it’s not right” and the neighbors might blink a bit.”