The beasts

What to say, what to say?

An undergrad died the other day. R.I.P Lisa Crowely. I didn't know you, but I ache for you. I wonder what it's like. The D.O. reported police says it's suicide. I found her on Facebook and she's so beautiful and happy looking. Big smiles. Big, big smiles. It's hard to imagine a person looking like they embrace life fully would deprive herself like that. But then, that's what some people do. They smile and smile and smile because they do not want to put their burden on someone else's back. Or they want to put it on the right person's back, the person who sees through the mask and reaches out. Most people just don't see, though. They want to be fooled. That's a true story.


Writing's got me miffed. My language/lines keep getting stronger, but I'm stressing too much. I'm either too far or too close to reality and that's a problem. I had this idea the other day that as long as a writer knows what he wants to say the story can be anything as long as it says that. So, there's a lot of freedom.

It's been a stressfest lately and not fun, and if writing should be anything, it should be fun. You're inventing. You're going wherever you want to go. Sometimes I feel the things that matter to me, that I'd like to write about just won't translate in the end - either feel melodramatic or depressing or big-questiony. I guess I just have to go for it and not worry about the meaning, or whether or not I'm too close to home, or whether or not there are more important ways to spend my time. I guess that question depends on what I'm writing about.

I survived my first reading. i stressed out all week trying to find something suitable and I don't think I succeeded, I don't think I represented my mind right, but reading through my work, nothing did. Which I guess is the problem and frustration of a young writer- having all these things to say and not yet knowing how best to say them. Voice, voice, voice. That's all I've been thinking about. You have nothing if you don't have voice to communicate.

Stress, stress, stress, stresssss. I used that word about a thousand times just then. Some one help me remember how to be here now. this is stupid.

What else?
what else?

I've been having frequent dreams of people in my past. Sleep, don't be such a bother and a tease.