Failure
I managed to fail on all of my goals. Already. Aside from going to see a friend who was having a baby, I have once again managed to isolate myself, not work out at all, and may be quitting the writing business all together. I don't know if I'm just falling into depression, I just know that I made a mistake and re-read a small section of what I wrote last week (the day I made the goals, or somewhere around there), and it was absolute crap.
Not the characters, not the backstory, not anything except the actual writing itself. That was horrid. Stephen King once wrote that, "you can't make a bad writer good, but you can make a good writer great." Something like that anyway. I thought, for a few minutes there, that I had some tiny measure of talent that I'd be able to draw from and perhaps, with lots and lots of work, I'd create something worthy of reading. Not publishing or anything. Just reading. Share with friends or something. I no longer think that. I read what I wrote and it reads like fucking radio instructions. The thing of it is, that I didn't always write like that. Or at least I never thought I did. I was never a great fan of my work, but some stuff I've written I've actually let others (strangers) read. Sure it was a few fanfiction pieces, but the writing was ok. This writing that I'm doing now...you know what. Nevermind.
I have 2 finals tomorrow, for which I have been saying that I have to study for, but I have not picked up one book or piece of paper to do so. So maybe I should get started now. I should! But I fucking won't. And tomorrow, I'll hate myself more. If I manage to make myself care enough to hate.
I'm so angry at myself at the moment I don't know what to do with myself. All I want to do is sleep. That's all. I'm playing cheery and happy, and smiling and talking to those that are talking to me, but what I really want to say is fuck it all. Everyone, everything, I just don't want to care. I'm really angry and just tired of everything. But even just putting that down here, I feel bad. Because I care. And that's almost worst. Because I can't do anything, so I just get angry again. I can't imagine my life without any of my friends. I know there are things about me that people can't stand. I can't imagine why half of them stuck around for as long as they did, since this feeling of worthlessness (and not doing shit about it) isn't something new in my life. i'm sure as hell sick of me. Maybe I'm just lucky. Or maybe they just feel bad.
Not the characters, not the backstory, not anything except the actual writing itself. That was horrid. Stephen King once wrote that, "you can't make a bad writer good, but you can make a good writer great." Something like that anyway. I thought, for a few minutes there, that I had some tiny measure of talent that I'd be able to draw from and perhaps, with lots and lots of work, I'd create something worthy of reading. Not publishing or anything. Just reading. Share with friends or something. I no longer think that. I read what I wrote and it reads like fucking radio instructions. The thing of it is, that I didn't always write like that. Or at least I never thought I did. I was never a great fan of my work, but some stuff I've written I've actually let others (strangers) read. Sure it was a few fanfiction pieces, but the writing was ok. This writing that I'm doing now...you know what. Nevermind.
I have 2 finals tomorrow, for which I have been saying that I have to study for, but I have not picked up one book or piece of paper to do so. So maybe I should get started now. I should! But I fucking won't. And tomorrow, I'll hate myself more. If I manage to make myself care enough to hate.
I'm so angry at myself at the moment I don't know what to do with myself. All I want to do is sleep. That's all. I'm playing cheery and happy, and smiling and talking to those that are talking to me, but what I really want to say is fuck it all. Everyone, everything, I just don't want to care. I'm really angry and just tired of everything. But even just putting that down here, I feel bad. Because I care. And that's almost worst. Because I can't do anything, so I just get angry again. I can't imagine my life without any of my friends. I know there are things about me that people can't stand. I can't imagine why half of them stuck around for as long as they did, since this feeling of worthlessness (and not doing shit about it) isn't something new in my life. i'm sure as hell sick of me. Maybe I'm just lucky. Or maybe they just feel bad.