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sell all your clothes,
May. 6th, 2006 11:21 pmI'm waaaay down at the bottom of my creative energy. Somehow on Monday everything suddenly sucked. I can't figure it out. The weekend had been wonderful, I felt at ease, familiar, smiling. Got to see Cliff, got to watch a sweet nature video and see Snow Cuts Glass. But immediately it stopped making sense. I pinned my hopes on the Thinkpad I bought Sunday evening, thinking retail therapy in the form of Sexy New Hardware would at least give me something new to focus on for a few weeks. Unfortunately when it became clear that it wasn't going to arrive for nearly 2 weeks, I had to shovel dirt on those hopes. Today I ate a whole lot of pizza and watched several hours of Dave Chappelle. Mostly I felt like I was waiting for the day to be over. I haven't felt that way in a very long time.
If I tell myself I accomplished things, like how the bathroom is clean for the first time in a month, and Jeremy's new site has a design, and most of my MIS homework is done, maybe I'll forget that I did those things on one of the last few Saturdays I have left at college.
This feeling of wastefulness will eat me away. I repeatedly cut short all my projects and plans due to lack of funding or certainty. Trying to make the 1000 things I do every day go smoother is kind of a major purpose of my energy and thought. Turning over life's rhythm, eroding like a rock carried through summer, small and round from use, familiar and full of memory. Just as it's becoming round enough to skip, I must leave the river.
Adventure without opportunity is foolishness. I like this river and it's the biggest one on the map.
Poop.
If I tell myself I accomplished things, like how the bathroom is clean for the first time in a month, and Jeremy's new site has a design, and most of my MIS homework is done, maybe I'll forget that I did those things on one of the last few Saturdays I have left at college.
This feeling of wastefulness will eat me away. I repeatedly cut short all my projects and plans due to lack of funding or certainty. Trying to make the 1000 things I do every day go smoother is kind of a major purpose of my energy and thought. Turning over life's rhythm, eroding like a rock carried through summer, small and round from use, familiar and full of memory. Just as it's becoming round enough to skip, I must leave the river.
Adventure without opportunity is foolishness. I like this river and it's the biggest one on the map.
Poop.
