Trying to make the best of this thing called nostalgia...
Bianca is right, Mercury-retrograde is a BITCH.
I had a dream a few nights ago reliving an insane night I had right after I graduated college, before I left for Japan. It involved being led to a party by a car of hippies at which there was a bonfire, trampoline, and the largest dog I have ever seen in my life. It was one of the most amazingly random nights of my life. A true demonstration of the chaos theory in action. And I have witnesses to it - even some video proof that surfaced much after the fact. This is actually the 3rd or 4th time I've dreamt about that night.
The thing is I never really took the time to write it down properly.
I have a lot of stories like that. Stories that I feel are so amazing that they should be written down but for some reason I choke and can't get past a few sentences. I start making judgements and think I'm being too long winded or go off on too many tangents or some other criticism so I give up before I finish. In fact I can't remember the last thing I wrote that I followed through to the end. And the sad thing is I love writing, and at times in my life I've called myself a writer. Just typing that out makes me cringe a little. I'm no writer. I know writers but I'm too scared to be one. I used to really think I was or would be a writer. Sometimes I still play with the idea in my little imagination.
I could get all depressed about this and write a huge long whiny post about the state I'm in but I think I might finally be well over that unproductive way of being. So I think that this weekend with all this nostalgia smothering me I'm going to force myself to write down the story of that evening in late July 2001 instead. That's being productive isn't it?
I will of course post it here. My deadline is Sunday at 11:59 pm and I hope I will get hell if I miss this deadline!
I had a dream a few nights ago reliving an insane night I had right after I graduated college, before I left for Japan. It involved being led to a party by a car of hippies at which there was a bonfire, trampoline, and the largest dog I have ever seen in my life. It was one of the most amazingly random nights of my life. A true demonstration of the chaos theory in action. And I have witnesses to it - even some video proof that surfaced much after the fact. This is actually the 3rd or 4th time I've dreamt about that night.
The thing is I never really took the time to write it down properly.
I have a lot of stories like that. Stories that I feel are so amazing that they should be written down but for some reason I choke and can't get past a few sentences. I start making judgements and think I'm being too long winded or go off on too many tangents or some other criticism so I give up before I finish. In fact I can't remember the last thing I wrote that I followed through to the end. And the sad thing is I love writing, and at times in my life I've called myself a writer. Just typing that out makes me cringe a little. I'm no writer. I know writers but I'm too scared to be one. I used to really think I was or would be a writer. Sometimes I still play with the idea in my little imagination.
I could get all depressed about this and write a huge long whiny post about the state I'm in but I think I might finally be well over that unproductive way of being. So I think that this weekend with all this nostalgia smothering me I'm going to force myself to write down the story of that evening in late July 2001 instead. That's being productive isn't it?
I will of course post it here. My deadline is Sunday at 11:59 pm and I hope I will get hell if I miss this deadline!