Skip to main content

Yayz

I'm on my way to the lakehouse in Connecticut for a week of hard labor and heavy writing. Should be fun--and lovely as fuck. The temperature should be about 20 degrees cooler than back home. Plus the lake/woods are so tranquil and natural....my favorite place in the world.

Meanwhile I'll have a 3 hour wait in NYC, that city I love that city I hate.... Thankfully I won't be left utterly on my own to mope and weep and otherwise fail: my friend Lucas and I are going to grab coffee between mah buses ^.^


Yesterday my sponsor and I started my fifth step; we got a good chunk into my Resentments, but still have a ways to go. All the same, it was a good solid start. I'm excited to keep working on it when I get back.

(For those that don't know the 5th step is wjhere you meet with your sponsor and go through the personal inventory you wrote during the 4th step.)


Anywway, I'll have to remember to post that poem I wrote. I've been reading a lot of Frost and have found his brilliant sense of meter & verse wonderfully infectious. The poem as a whole is called "Wanderlust" and although most people assumeit's about my ex, it all came about one morning when I woke reflecting on atavistic urges to wander, escape. The first section, "To Dream", is in iambic pentameter and all nostalgic and Frosty. The second section alternates lines of trimeter and catalectic tetrameter (ie, 3 & 3.5 feet--or, basically, 6 & 7 syllables). I hope it doesn't feel contrived, changing the structure so much, but I decided I was hoping to convey a sense of loss, of something missing....I guess XD Originally I tried making it pentameter as well but the lines--they just wouldn't fit! Hahaha

Anyway, I hope to do lots of writing when not too busy helping my grandma out. I've got a short story and a good couple poems in the works, so I got some good stuff to look forward to :)
Well, here's hoping!

Comments

Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo.
In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.  (Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide.)

The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous flowers herse…

Rocky Horror - Better than Glee.

You know, I've routinely refused to watch Glee. Like whoa. I've seen bits, it's amusing, but not my thing. Plus how can I be a properly pretentions intellectual fag if I don't look down on & snub snobbily some ragingly popular thing?? It's just not proper decorum, really.

I'm also in a Rocky Horror Picture Show shadowcast (website in progress, but that's us :)). Naturally, they were all excited about that Glee episode when they first heard about it; I on the other hand gave a pained smile and said "Isn't that special. I'm still not watching it."

Part of me's pretty glad I didn't, frankly. (hah! get it? like Tim Curry.)

A Valentine's Special.

Yeah, I'm one of those guys who's never really been with someone around Valentine's. I am sometimes baffled how other people manage these things--and why I can't. To be fair, it's probably as much my not trying enough and trying too hard as it is anything pariticularly wrong with me. Like, I know I don't get myself out there enough to meet guys and when I do it's probably compensatory and usually flawed from the start.

The other question is--why does it matter so much to me? Evidently it seems like something I want but something I'm scared of, too. It may also be something I'm just not very good at. I'm secretly timid and fearful of most confrontation and directness. For all my communication skills, I always seem to chicken out when it comes to talking to guys in a healthy, sustaining way. I'm a dreamer who wants something nice badly enough to stick to something for the concept of having it more than the reality of dealing with it; I want to…