|
| |
freewrite__on_my_life
|
|
|
ClairE
|
I'm making friends with another blatherer, I'm biting my fingers, I'm listening to Janis and talking about hip_hop and it is 12:01 and sometimes the time tumbles forwards like a pinwheel catching the wind. I used to have so much on my mind that it would be taken right out of my fingers onto the page but more often lately it is like scraping dried paint out of the barrel, painstakingly twisting the letters into my own creation, making my jaw ache.
You said that you understand just how I feel, that you can relate, and I after I explained everything to you you opened the door a little wider. I want to know you all. Sometimes it makes me sad to think of all of blather in a room, some of us grumpy, some too sad for life, some of us shy and silly, and no_one knowing where to sit. But other times it makes my heart open triple to nothing when I think of all the words swelling the page.
This is like stumbling down stairs in my heels, I am not inflamed with love and the worst in my life is that I cannot handle the absence of drama. Mostly my life is about songs I love, about keeping my room clean, about the rise of goals and the inevitable dropping of sail, and right now I'm drifting along waiting for the first point to start right again, to get something right, a shiny brightnew semester, a copper penny I can save from footsteps, the chancemeetings in the future I cannot see and have no way of guarding my heart against.
The answer is this: one boy two boys on the blather page, new boy ripping pages one after the other from my life, then light swells through the lace curtains and makes the dust dance and he_brings_her_nothing_but_frustration and oh how_she_makes_me_feel and the names of my blathes no longer hold emotion, except for memory. All I hold onto is the_future, mostly in terms of the distance between California and New_York, and yearning. Yearning and longing, not emotion but action, to leave a taste on your tongue.
|
031124
|
| |
... |
|
|
ClairE
|
The answer is that there_was_definitely_something_there, but there_is_nothing_here. It's all about what was, to explain what is and what will shortly be. My room is mostly empty space. You see?
|
031124
|
| |
... |
|
|
ClairE
|
Yo_La_Tengo is perfect for today. It makes me think it's Saturday but it's Wednesday and I'm cutting my classes and going home in a few hours. I'm really fucking myself over again. And I don't know which is worse, having someone think I'm mean, or having someone think I'm stupid. It makes me angry that this season won't last. I wish I cared enough to be excited about school. Now it is just something to get over with. Being lonely is how I felt when I was little. When I first split up with my boyfriend, I said I had this new sense of reality that I had only had when I was a child, and that maybe it was that the ratio of communication with introspection had reversed itself. But I just realized that maybe this heightened sense of my surroundings and the singing in the air only comes along with isolation. I am going skiing this January. I've never gone before. My friend invited me, and I'm going with her friends who aren't very exciting, and one kid I don't know. But I said yes because I need to shake things up, do things I wouldn't normally do. I won't be disappointed this time, if I just go along for the ride.
Why am I even doing this? It's so frustrating that life is no more than marking_time, what we make of it. I hope I don't let myself live discontented. That's my only goal.
|
031126
|
| |
... |
|
|
ClairE
|
It is funny to be told my room smells like donuts when there's rotting sauerkraut in the garbage. I read The_Onion today. I secretly wish other people would start blathing in here because this seems like a diary and I already keep one. I just thought a specified freewrite was a good idea.
I wonder to myself how many other people have read this picture book called Baby. All the drawings showed a child growing inside the mother, but it was whimsical and lovely, and funny, and charming. Childhood is books to me. And carpet, and sunlight.
|
031126
|
| |
... |
|
|
marked
|
.
|
031126
|
| |
... |
|
|
ClairE
|
I just realized I said it's one kid I don't know, when I meant to type it's one kid I don't like. My heart is kind.
|
031126
|
| |
... |
|
|
r1y9a6n4
|
specified freewrite.......hmm i kind of like the idea. being somewhat of a specific type person to be able to specify something that in its nature is meant to be unspecific intrugues me.
I am sitting in this room reading the blath of others when there is so much more that should be going on. you see, i found this site yesterday quite by accident. in searching the web and trying to make conclusion of all the stories that my life has become i stumbled onto this site and began to write in ways that just spurted themselves form my fingertips. i am on th internet right now trying to solve one of the countless issues that has arisen in my life. it has to be solved this morning as the time constraints could be the breaker of the deal, yet i am here in this room typing in a way that seems to solve the problem without attacking them. i am new to this. i can see that this has been something that has been going on for a while and i feel as though i am joining something of which i could never have imagined but something which uncages the imagination i have. good morning... its time to work them out
|
031126
|
| |
... |
|
|
notme
|
my back hurts and i feel like i have bricks ducktaped to my ribs and someone has left the iron on in the cage i was having such interesting dreams most of the pain was gone when i woke up but the longer i am awake the more it comes tumbling back is hurting one detail in a stack of papers highlighted fineliner pencil crayon i d uhs ugh gug and more ugh gug gug i like candy stores when was the lasst time i was in a candy store? do i know? i don't know if i know i don't know a lot of things and i am constantly using th expression i don't know i'm not sure i wish i could stop waking up feeling like this the cat is meowing at the door i want to swim everyday for the rest of my life i used to swim everyday i used to i used to everything i'm used i used to do, used to know when to stop talking maybe i didn't,. there was this hallway-street in my dream reminded me of total recall or something but i think it was on earth not mars and it was underground there was a shootout in the shower and a boy fell off a cliff but the people i was with didn't want to help him and i was trying to wake up but i couldn't leave him dying in the crack in the ground
|
031126
|
