I'm not trying to pull a Sylvia, don't even go there, I merely just have immense writer's block today. I feel unproductive, scatterbrained, unkempt, revolting, ailing and everything in between. Am I just flailing in my tedium? Am I itching for exhilaration? Yes but...I always am worrisome to go back to school. I'm not one who adjusts to change, even if it has been ingrained for my life for almost two years now. What is wrong with me? What can I do? I fucking love school...is it homesickness? Why do I fret about nonsensical things?
Okay, I only felt homesick one random time at school...but it wasn't for family or my house, it was for my bed in my room. I don't know why. It was a sick, twisted pit in my gut from it. I had to get up and get on my computer at the time. I am such a fool. A self-tormented idiot sometimes. My worries are meaningless. I wish I adjusted well to anything in life, was more resilient.
I can't help but wish Mom let me continue on those pills. Those two very powerful kinds of pills that were a very magic drug for me.
I did find an adequate substitute, however, and it's less hazardous to my health, but nevertheless...
I researched some Morrison, some Plath my very favorites, watched some Golden Girls, read some of Salinger's "Nine Stories"---thus far, "Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut" is my favorite. It leaves you thinking, "What the FUCK?!" But I love the main characters Eloise and Mary Jane.
"A Perfect Day for Banana Fish" is overrated. Salinger may not be the most eloquent writer, but he is a genius at constructing scenes and plots. Always very peculiar and twisted. But that always makes for the best novels, stories and lives, really.
But I know damn well, I can't win 'em all...not everyday I'm going to be on fire with my book. Hahaha oh the paradox...my book is entitled, "Matches." Once I pick up steam and momentum, I will be halfway done---or more so in a FLASH. This chapter is entirely more enjoyable than the last. Infinitely more morbid, but more effortless.
Anyway, I've come to a conclusion. I think I'm ready to get back to school. A tad fearful as usual, but so damn ready. I'm so wretchedly bored stiff here. The tedium is exasperating. I need a change of pace. Two more weeks though. It's always a bit startling and uneasy for me to switch back and forth back and forth, (why on Earth am I not used to it yet?) But I keep telling myself there are far more breaks than it appears. Let's see, we return late January, then we have all of February then early March we're back for Spring Break---the 14th till...whenever. A week. It'll fly by as it always does. So that's like a month and a half? Like 8 weeks? More or less. When I'm in the swing of things, it'll be nothing. It's terrifying how fast this year...this college experience is going. I'm astounded.
Tattoo: there is a line from the Bell Jar that has always struck a chord with me. At first, because I found it to be highly enigmatic. But it really isn't. It's incredibly broad. Wonderfully so! The line? "I am I am I am" it essentially signifies a thirst for life and for experiencing all one can possibly experience in a lifetime. A craving for EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. That is ME.
I am I am I am.
Last words...fuck love, I'm working on me. My writing is my lover. I need to fulfill myself and my ambitions and dreams before I worry about spreading the love to another human being.
I truly think I am right when I say that. At least applied to me.
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