Inevitably I end up online, which does exactly nothing productive. But lately, I've taken to writing in my notebook (I don't call it a journal, because I am notoriously bad at journaling) in the middle of the night, and somehow, that sets my mind at rest enough for me to go to sleep.
Although, I suppose that even more recently I've become that girl who blogs in the middle of the night, and somehow, this feels like a step backwards.
Anyway, this midnight notebooking has lead to my waking up to some pretty hilarious entries. Many of them are a strange balance of intensely personal self-revelations and zany, misspelled comments about ducks.
Last week, I opened my notebook to find two full pages of three-circled venn diagrams, diagramming the most bizarre and random of things. One was composed only of emoticons. Scrawled at the bottom of the first page was a desperate Why won't you take me seriously? This sort of question then seemed to answer itself on the next page, where, written in large block letters to the side of a particularly angst-ridden diagram, was the declaration: I AM IN A STATE OF VENN.
And that's a metaphor for livin.
Also, here's a poem. I wrote it and stuff. It's quite short, as I'm experimenting with "blitz poetry". I'm sure there's a real, fancy literary term for it, but basically I'm trying out writing very very short poems. Maybe because of how much I loved Slaughterhouse Five, which made me wand to write in clumps, where each clump is "a brief, urgent message". It's not fantastic, but I do think all made up words deserve to be publicized.
want
no, she told herself,
no more propriety.
hell take high society,
from now on -
only books and bends
and open ends
of dream matter and desirestuff.
only mine.
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