Archive for November, 2005

blog tag

Nate challenged me to do this blog archive game. I did a quick google search and couldn’t find the origin of this game, so if anybody knows it, send it on my way. Anyway, here are the rules:

The Blog Archives and Hidden Meanings meme. The criteria:
Delve into your blog archive.
Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas.
Tag people to do the same.

“I sometimes fantasize about certain individuals having a more active role in my life… Twists of circumstance putting distance between potential romance.”

I’ll count the second part even though I capitalized “Twists”, grammatically it should have been the same sentence.

Anyway, I don’t have any fucking clue what I meant when I wrote that shit. The post is about possibly moving away to follow laura when (if) she went to grad school. And maybe I was talking about her, but probably I was talking about relationships with other people, people still in the cities when I move away. Trouble is I don’t have any clue who those people might have been. I certainly don’t think anything came of any of them. (This was about the time I had a couple of one-night stands, but otherwise I was only actually dating Laura, and I can’t find any indication of any huge crushes or anything.)

Anyway, I guess this is semi-relevant, because Katie and have talked a few times about moving to Chicago in a few years. I mentioned this to Christy and she didn’t like it one bit.

Anyway, so I’m supposed to challenge someone else. I guess Yami and Dr.Bombay, you’re both it.

wakefulness

Twisting the shapes of morning dreams into the shapes of daytime emotions, regret and recourse, reality and renegade rhetoric–set loose on an unsuspecting landscape of innocent emotional vegetation, the omnivorous beast devours the hapless rooted instincts and flitting insect moods without distinction. Its mouth is a crane whose metal jaws indiscriminately hang open like the sifting teeth of a giant whale, sucking in all in its path. The beast is wakefulness, and upon its arrival the world is set drab again, and all the wonders of imagination cower so as not to become targets, so as not to become prey.

We wake and the slates of our minds begin tallying tasks and monotonous chores, the artistry of dreams swept away as so much chalk powder. Chalk powder that accumulates in the corners of our minds until an avalanche of it will bury us in its beauty, and we go mad.

day two and I’m quitting

I can’t decide how I feel about this decision. I am simultaniously incredibly relieved, and also a bit disappointed with myself.

I mean, of course I’m disappointed with myself. Writing is a big deal to me… but the weird thing is that I’m also not disappointed. I feel daunted by the task ahead, and also less interested in it than I’ve been before.

I feel like nanowrimo is the wrong way to write a novel. Yes, it is good for getting ideas down on paper, it is probably exceptionally good for getting your stentences straightened out–good for the practice of writing, but it is not necessarily good for the parts of writing that I am bad at… the finishing, and the plot. I am terrible with plots.

I have this picture of myself at 45 writing novels. Maybe even at 35. But right now I want to still be in my 20s (last year for it) and enjoying life to the fullest. Not stressing about work or novel writing, or how I’m going to fit both into my day.

I am still going to make an effort to write more frequently. Perhaps I will make an effort to sit down every day and write. Yes, I will do that at least through november. I think I will try and actually finish up the novel I wrote last year for nanowrimo. But more importantly, I think I’m going to try and write a poem a day again. And I don’t want to stop at the end of november. I want to write a poem a day for at least a year. I’m going to write a poem a day until next november, and maybe then I’ll do nanowrimo again as a 30-something. (But without the something.)

Yeah, so how are things? Things are grand, things are fucking great really. I’m dating someone wonderful, and I’m learning to do aerial acrobatics. (Albiet the latter quite slowly; I think I might start going to class more than once a week.) My work has moved to a real location again, which is quite nice. I’m taking the bus to work more or less every day and loving the time I get to read.

Oh yeah, and I’m going to take at least a half-hour to read every day.

So yeah, not writing a novel this november, but I’m going to write a poem every day, and maybe a bit of last year’s novel. I’m definitely going to print that fucker out and do some major editing. And I’m going to take time to read every day. And maybe start playing guitaur again.

…and I’m not going to feel guilty for not writing 2,000 words a day.