For Heather
Right Now
Life’s been stuck in stasis, or so it seems to me. I’ve been talking about all the things that I want to do over Jan Term… write my novel, read Lord of the Rings, learn tarot, create the Sappho fan listing. That’s a decent amount for a mere three week period. Bu the point is, I could be doing it now. I’m not nearly as busy as I let on. I’ve been lazy, loving the stillness of my single too much. I don’t have to feel guilty about spontaneous midday naps anymore, or looking like a loser because I’m addicted to my computer. I think that this laziness has robbed me of my creativity. It’s definitely robbed me of my motivation.
I look around my room… there are clothes on the floor, my bed is unmade and strewn with papers and pens and godknowswhat. There are candy bar rappers and an open bag of Oreos on my desk, burying my Christmas cactus, which is at this point probably fighting for its life. My dishes remain unwashed.
I’m somehow more worried that my Angel episode didn’t download properly to care. You see, I’ve grown unaccustomed to thinking, to discovering new things. Change my trash bag? Clean the spilled caramel in the fridge? Nah. I’m happy here at my desk, being trivial, wasting space.
The only guilt I feel now is that I’m not doing all the things I want to do. I’ve been taking baby steps. Yesterday, I missed classes because I was engrossed in a book. I’m getting new ideas for the novel, and for once I think I’ll actually finish it… once I get started, that is. I really think that the reason I’ve put off writing it for so long is because I’m really worried that it will suck, that It’ll be unpoetic and horribly melodramatic. I’m also kinda worried that no one will care, but at the same time yelling at myself because I should write it first and foremost for me, no one else.
Everyday, I pass the autumn trees, going out in a blaze of color, and I think that I should be writing about their struggle with winter. I look at the crescent moon dipping low in the sky and wish I would observe more of the night sky than just the walk from Decker to Blanche. I look at gorgeous art sites and am afraid to finish coding the new version of my own.
Soon. Soon I will. Opera class will begin soon, and I will rediscover why I love to sing. Even sooner is Tai Chi, and hopefully, I’ll remember how to be peaceful and still, but not empty. I’ll finish that book today. I’ll buy tarot cards and a good book with Christmas money.
But first… I think I’ll wash my dishes.
Right Now
Life’s been stuck in stasis, or so it seems to me. I’ve been talking about all the things that I want to do over Jan Term… write my novel, read Lord of the Rings, learn tarot, create the Sappho fan listing. That’s a decent amount for a mere three week period. Bu the point is, I could be doing it now. I’m not nearly as busy as I let on. I’ve been lazy, loving the stillness of my single too much. I don’t have to feel guilty about spontaneous midday naps anymore, or looking like a loser because I’m addicted to my computer. I think that this laziness has robbed me of my creativity. It’s definitely robbed me of my motivation.
I look around my room… there are clothes on the floor, my bed is unmade and strewn with papers and pens and godknowswhat. There are candy bar rappers and an open bag of Oreos on my desk, burying my Christmas cactus, which is at this point probably fighting for its life. My dishes remain unwashed.
I’m somehow more worried that my Angel episode didn’t download properly to care. You see, I’ve grown unaccustomed to thinking, to discovering new things. Change my trash bag? Clean the spilled caramel in the fridge? Nah. I’m happy here at my desk, being trivial, wasting space.
The only guilt I feel now is that I’m not doing all the things I want to do. I’ve been taking baby steps. Yesterday, I missed classes because I was engrossed in a book. I’m getting new ideas for the novel, and for once I think I’ll actually finish it… once I get started, that is. I really think that the reason I’ve put off writing it for so long is because I’m really worried that it will suck, that It’ll be unpoetic and horribly melodramatic. I’m also kinda worried that no one will care, but at the same time yelling at myself because I should write it first and foremost for me, no one else.
Everyday, I pass the autumn trees, going out in a blaze of color, and I think that I should be writing about their struggle with winter. I look at the crescent moon dipping low in the sky and wish I would observe more of the night sky than just the walk from Decker to Blanche. I look at gorgeous art sites and am afraid to finish coding the new version of my own.
Soon. Soon I will. Opera class will begin soon, and I will rediscover why I love to sing. Even sooner is Tai Chi, and hopefully, I’ll remember how to be peaceful and still, but not empty. I’ll finish that book today. I’ll buy tarot cards and a good book with Christmas money.
But first… I think I’ll wash my dishes.
Current Mood: 
lazy
lazy1 comment | Leave a comment
relaxed