Oh gosh.
Talking with one of my room mates last night has cleared up some stuff for me. Number one, I have no clue what I want. In life, in a relationship, in general. Number two, I have to figure that out before I can be happy with anything. Number three, I do not think that Z is making me happy, and I dont think that is what I want. It's a good thing we didn't jump right into anything because then it would just cause more heart ache.
Why is it the one person that I really want and need to talk to is on the other side of the freaking globe. The middle east is no place for him to be right now, I need my therapist damn it. I feel all lost in the dark. *enter appropriate icon*
****moving on***
I adore my essay writing class this semester. I was worried it was going to be boring, but I really am enjoying the way that writing is presented in that class. It is writing through progressions, using real life experiences to bring out more profound and provocative themes in writing. Basicly, what I've been trying to do on my own for years. I'm not sure if what I am writing is any good, but it speaks to me in a way that most things lately have not. I feel like it is opening up more doors for me in my writing. Not to say that I want to become an essayist as my profession, just saying that it might be a fun diversion when real life gets too tough.
I feel that there is pretty much a lack of market for essays beyond the college classroom. No one wants to read memoirs that are not so incredible as to be the fodder of fiction books. But I dont really have any illusions that I will become a published writer. I just dont have the time and the drive to put in to it to make it happen. I've already gotten my photography published and recognized in shows and collections- I feel that might be enough, for the time being. So I am alright with the fact that this sort of writing will be for me only. Perhaps I will create a journal particularly for finished essays of this manner, see if anyone at all is interested.
Well, off to said writing class I must go for group revisions. Tata, list of life goals to follow.
Why is it the one person that I really want and need to talk to is on the other side of the freaking globe. The middle east is no place for him to be right now, I need my therapist damn it. I feel all lost in the dark. *enter appropriate icon*
****moving on***
I adore my essay writing class this semester. I was worried it was going to be boring, but I really am enjoying the way that writing is presented in that class. It is writing through progressions, using real life experiences to bring out more profound and provocative themes in writing. Basicly, what I've been trying to do on my own for years. I'm not sure if what I am writing is any good, but it speaks to me in a way that most things lately have not. I feel like it is opening up more doors for me in my writing. Not to say that I want to become an essayist as my profession, just saying that it might be a fun diversion when real life gets too tough.
I feel that there is pretty much a lack of market for essays beyond the college classroom. No one wants to read memoirs that are not so incredible as to be the fodder of fiction books. But I dont really have any illusions that I will become a published writer. I just dont have the time and the drive to put in to it to make it happen. I've already gotten my photography published and recognized in shows and collections- I feel that might be enough, for the time being. So I am alright with the fact that this sort of writing will be for me only. Perhaps I will create a journal particularly for finished essays of this manner, see if anyone at all is interested.
Well, off to said writing class I must go for group revisions. Tata, list of life goals to follow.