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100 words per day? That should be easy. Except it'll be... 200 words to start with because I missed yesterday.
So! I start with 100 words a day. That should get the rhythm going and then I ought to be able to write even more per day. Which is good be cause I might be doing Nanowrimo this year. Last year was my first try (I won!) and there was also Camp Nanowrimo in July and August-- I only did August(I won that too!).
Anyway, I'm still tired from that. I'm debating whether to participate this year.
Okay, this is just as easy as I though it was going to be. It'll be even easier if the definition of what makes up the 100 words is broad. Can I do fiction vignettes? Does it all have to be real-life diary stuff? If it does, I can deal with that... Stream of consciousness for the win, beetch.
Well, damn. I'm beginning to bore myself-- Ooh, I could do poetry too! I've been getting more interested in poetry lately, though I'm a prose girl first and foremost. But yeah, poetry could totally work.
This is fun.
Whoops. Missed another day. At least they let you catch up so there's no empty square staring accusingly at you...
Bleh. Yesterday was not a good day. And I've been moderately sick the past few days besides. Kind of sucks, when you don't have the sore throat/stuffy nose to deal with, that your energy level's so low you can't do anything constructive anyway.
Anyway. Rantrantrant blahblahblah.
So it *looks* like I'm just going to be writing a bucketload of boring stuff. But it would be weird to go from RL stuff to fiction bites in the same post, yeah?
Nooo. I accidentally closed the window. Ah well. 100 is a bite-sized wordage snack. No biggie. Now let's try this again.
So. This is like oneword.com. Except I get to choose the word. And there's a word count limit instead of a time limit. But yeah.
I love oneword. also 750words. I signed up for waaaay too many writing sites and blogs and stuff. There's probably over 100 writing-related bookmarks on my Firefox, out of the 500 or so bookmarks I have. I even have subfolders within folders of bookmarks. Because I am OCD like that.
So I had this fab idea to do a poem in the Fibonacci sequence and I was like, yay me! But I got up to 21 and realized I'd go over the limit even if I started back down. And if I reversed at 13 I'd be under the limit and have to throw off the sequence and argh too much trouble.
Pardon my nerdage. It's in my genes.
Oh look, I still missed a day. Tomorrow I won't. I hope.
Note to self: stick to free verse poetry like you planned.
And apologies for boring whoever might be reading this...
Too many dark things going on. I'm cold, tired, and worried. The rug has been metaphorically yanked out from under me. I don't know what to do. If I don't say anything, it'll happen anyway. If I say anything it'll just make things worse. Can't win for losing.
I thought things were okay. Apparently I was wrong. It's all gone downhill pretty effing fast.
Where's a hole I can crawl into?
I was going to practice piano today. Now I just want to sit and stare into space.
I would like to wake up. But I'm not asleep.
I guess sick = melodrama. Oy. Ah, the relief of anonymity...
Today I *will* practice piano. I need to make my right hand's fingers learn to act independently of one another. Try to get my ring finger to hit a key on its own and my pinky and middle want to tag along too. Every. Single. Time. And forget about having my hands doing different things at the same time; totally crossed wires. But that's why I'm taking lessons, that's why I have these exercises, and anyway things were easier than I thought they'd be at my first lesson. I'll learn.
I'm reading all this stuff about Nanowrimo. I did it last year, this year I don't know if I want to do it. Other things I want to do. It was quite consuming last time. I've found manymanymany articles on fleshing out plot-characters-setting-etc, and all useful, and they might might this year even more doable than last year. IT'S SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. I feel pressured to come up with another idea, make it waymore formed than my last two. Self-imposed pressure. I don't need that. If I don't do Nano, the pressure's gone...
"I could wait a thousand hours
stay the same through sun and showers
pick apart a hundred flowers
just to be quiet
To me it means she wants to tell him she loves him. But they have a friendship she doesn't wait to ruin, and she doesn't know if he feels the same. "Pick apart a hundred flowers" reminds of that old game-- he loves me, he loves me not.
She'll wait until she's certain he's ready to hear. No matter how long that might take.
"I'm not yours and you're not mine
we can sit and pass the time..."
I have about 20 bookmarks for science-related videos. I really really want to watch them all, but I have less time to do that than I thought. Most of them are kind of long, so it's harder to set aside the time because OMG I HAVE OTHER STUFF TO DO THAT'S LIKE ACTUALLY IMPORTANT OSHI. But... this is like, learning and stuff. That's important too, right?
If I weren't such a nerdynerd I wouldn't be racking up new videos faster than I'm watching them. I like psychology, and everything to do with the brain. Also, language. And music. Etcetera.
Some days it feels like a chore, other days not so much. Today = chore. Usually about halfway through it stops feeling like that-- then I'm out of words for the day. So I go and continue on Livejournal, or Word, or my iPod. And then I try to continue here and it's disjointed.. for those who might be reading. Maybe no one is. And maybe it doesn't matter. This site is for snapshots. That's one of the things in the "about" section. So the possible disjointedness doesn't bother me much. I suppose I can blather as much as I want.
I just finished looking up Ali Smith on Amazon. Usually if I can't tell by the summary whether I'll like the book, I go to Amazon for a preview.
Turns out I'm not very interested in Ali Smith's books. Maybe I'll try a short story collection... Her style has a bit too much stream-of-consciousness for my taste. And she doesn't put quotes around her dialogue, which I find distracting because I haven't seen that often. I'd rather not be distracted while I'm reading *by* what I'm trying to read.
Stream-of consciouness about stream-of consciouness. How meta.
I had piano lessons today. It's my second time. It's a bit of a drive, so I've been doing it every other week, and I was sick last week anyway. My teacher is an old family friend; she taught my older sister years ago. I got a "late" start on it, but I've been musically inclined in many ways for a long time. I have a good ear. I just need to memorize the note names so I'll actually be able to go "That's a G" or whatever instead of just... um, whatever it is I do now.
Piano = <3
Not sure what to write about today.
Piano work is coming along quite nicely... I'm having a blast, even though it's definitely work. If you really love something it doesn't feel like a chore, right? I guess I like learning how to play even more than I thought I would. I mean... I've played piano for a long time, but I'm finally learning how to do it properly. aka using both hands, aka not just playing with my left. Also, teaching my right hand what to do with this will make it easier to do other things with it too.
I heard the song Young Blood by The Naked and Famous in the car yesterday for the first time. I thought for sure it was Passion Pit because it sounded similar but... apparently the lead singer is female. So yeah. Well, the dude from Passion Pit sings in a falsetto, and the music sounded similar too, so I wasn't that stupid, right?
The song. It is awesome. I really like the, um, I guess it's the keyboards? I think there might be strings there too, though. Combined with the drums it sounds amazing. I have it on my iPod now.
I have nothing to saaaaayyy...
Give me a minute. I'm sure I'll come up with something.
I'm bored? I should noodle on the piano. Right after I finish this.
Dear CC: I love you. I know we've never met, so it's ridiculous to say such a thing, but goddamn it I do. And so I write things about you that I will never ever show anyone ever, least of all you because that is so messed up and creepy I feel mortified thinking about it.
BTW, I don't *only* write about you. You fuel my muse in general.
When do words become reality?
When does reality match the words?
Does one cause the other
or do they feed off each other?
Words ≠ feelings
Feelings ≠ words
Are they supposed to?
Maybe I'm colder than I thought.
Maybe I really don't know anything.
Maybe I'm just as naive as I used to think I was.
I feel bad, but I shouldn't. He's a stranger, really. All we have is words. Do I have to mean them? I thought we were playing, sending imaginings back and forth.
Maybe I imagine his disappointment. Maybe he imagines my desire.
I know he probably isn't. Does he?
I've always liked the number 18. I like 8 by itself too, but there's something very... I don't know. More heft or "roundness" or something to 18.
I'm not a synesthete, but I read on some website about... I think about associators versus "true" synesthetes. Probably have the wrong words... Associators get the *feeling* of a color or sound. whereas actual synesthetes really see or hear it. Could be wrong about that, though.
I think I'm an associator. If I think on a number sometimes I can see a flicker of color.
And I found the website! www.mixsig.net
No, I haven't told her yet, and actually I'd rather not. Yet. We haven't talked in a while and I'm nervous about just being like "HI THUR HAVE A PHOTO HOW YA BEN?"
She'd probably like to know but maybe she'd be all "omg wtf ._."
which she wouldn't do. Then she'd ask me how college and stuff is going and I'd feel pressured even though I shouldn't. but it's like I'M GETTING THERE OKAY. I know she means well and is trying to help, but I don't want to disappoint her even though it's, um, MY LIFE. not hers.
This month: 4 days before my great-aunt's birthday.
2 years younger than me.
2 times 10.
4 times 5.
10 plus 10.
40 minus 20.
Plus four equals hours in a day.
The amount of times I watched an IAMX video. In a week.
19 years younger than Mr. X himself. (swoon)
One third of a minute. One third of an hour.
It looks dark blue (2) and black (0) to me.
Venti in Italian. (sounds like a coffee drink)
The amount of sparrows around our house almost every day.
The age my twin brother missed by 33 days.
Prompt: Soul eraser
He couldn't stop it.
The glowing knife was moving nearing and nearer, and here he was, stuck behind the glass wall that refused to break no matter what he threw at it.
She struggled, tiger-fierce, at her bonds.
Filled with fresh resolve, he continued his assault on the wall, shooting light beams and lightbombs, even regular kicks and punches.
Not a single crack.
The knife, propelled by an invisible force, pierced her armor. The fear in her eyes hit him like a hammer.
A blinding flash, and she hung limp.
The soul extractor had done its job.
She could hear the shower running. Now or never.
She raced into the den, to the bookshelves.
There! The highest shelf.
Scrambling onto the chair, she stood on the back, stretching as far as possible.
She looked at the nearest shelf. Raised one foot. Barely a toehold. The second foot joined the first. Wobbling, she reached again.
She toppled from the shelf with her prize, books raining around her. Flipped through the pages until...
Her home in glorious color. Pulling her in.
Her father found the den a mess, a book of fairy tales open on the floor.
One day I will see you. Maybe even touch you, but I don't want to die yet, so I think I should control myself. You're the poison and the antidote all at once. Heaven and hell. Dark and light. I love you and hate you and hate that I love you. I can't get enough of you and yet I just. want it. to stop. If it stops... It's been so long since you stole my heart. What will it feel like? Will I be empty? Maybe I'll be free.
Or maybe I am free. Maybe you broke the shackles.
Inching closer to Halloween. Thinking of writing some Halloween-themed fanfic or originals is as close as I get to "celebrating" it.
I was continually scared crapless by the masks and motion-activated shouty/creepy things in stores when I was little, so much that I dreaded when my mom had to bring me and brother on errands at Osco/CVS. Bro, not so much. While I stood near the safe haven at the front of the store, but close enough to see him, he'd go back and forth in front of the shouty/creepy things and grin at them.
So far so good. I've been keeping up. Now I need to sort out the word tangles that are my two previous Nano novels. No Nanowrimo this year for me. A hard decision, because I loved meeting all the other wrimos last year and I wanted to see them again but I just can't do it this year. Too many other things I need to deal with and I don't need the (self-imposed) pressure to finish 50k on top of that.
Next year I might do it again. I'm considering entering Script Frenzy now as well. We shall see.
Word prompt: artistry.
I like to think everyone has a bit of artistry in them. Whether it be with the written word or the spoken word or paint or clay or piano or guitar or singing or photography...
If you have vivid thoughts and don't share them with anyone, you still have art in you. Imagination begets art, art begets imagination.
If you dance and never let anyone see,sing and never let anyone hear, that's still artistry.
You don't necessarily have to share to be artistic. If you make things, if you dream things, you're an artist.
My brain is like OMFG I HAVE SO MUCH TO WORK ON WTF!
I do like having all this new stuff, but now I'm a little nervous that I might screw up somehow. I'm learning, so I'm allowed to screw up, but blaaagh so much stuuuuufff...
First, write out my song. Second, think of a name/bang head on desk/wonder why I have difficulty naming my own stuff.
Resist trying the zillions of songs that have sprouted overnight. Try to restraint myself so I don't "burn out" or whatever.
Do not hate the little tiny song I wrote already.
I got The Good-Natured's EP, Skeleton, yesterday through iTunes. I'M SO HAPPY. I can finally listen to Be My Animal a gazillion times without having to bring up Youtube. The video for it is great, though. So is the one for Prisoner-- a little creepy but powerful.
Speaking of creepy things, today I stumbled upon a video called Fantasy by a band named DYE.
Oh, god. That was hours ago and I'm still regretting it. Getting queasy just thinking about it....SO MESSED UP. Starts out normal at first and then WHAM! Lovecraftian Eldritch Abominations and tons of gore.
One day, I will lie on a hill outside the city, at night, with a boy. We will lie side by side and look up at the stars, look at the distant glowing city lights. It should be magical, to see the navy blanket above us and look for all the constellations we can recognize. Maybe he'll teach me things, or I'll teach him. But mostly we'll be silent, and hear the silence, and stare at the sky until our souls reach for it or we fall asleep, whichever comes first.
One day I will feel stardust in my hair.
Went to the Peabody-Essex Museum today, to see Painting the American Vision before it closes. Also the Ripple Effect. Got there late-ish so didn't spend as much time as I wanted to with the h20. But that doesn't close until May next year, so I'm definitely going back. I could spend hours just watching the fog bowl. So hypnotizing...
Being Salem, Halloween is a big deal. Lots of people, but usually it's wall-to-wall, appaently. Snow threw folks off, I guess.
I've never been to Salem. I liked it. Almost got into the Halloweeen spirit.
It's midnight, Halloween. The witching hour and all that sort of thing.
If my brother were a ghost, he might have appeared. He died peacefully, though. Did he have unfinished business? There were so many things we still had to do together... Does that count?
We talked about sharing an apartment, just us two, helping each other out. And there'd be another guy, strong enough to lift him to and from bed, and we'd all be friends, he wouldn't just be a servant...
We both knew, deep down, it wasn't feasible. But it was something nice to think about.
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