Arhgh why the fuck not....
I have been meaning to sit down and actually type something that's a bit more informative, but I haven't. For one, the net doesn't thrill me as much as it used to, and two, I have the occasional computer hog ;-) who is doing important writing stuff, thus interfering with my (very important) surfing HP slash activities, heh.
When I get a moment to examine my thoughts a bit more rationally, I'll post. My head is a bit all over the place, which I am painfully aware of. Times like these I should be quarantined. (sorry tcpip)
Not that it'll be less dross like than this post I'm sure.... I'm not feeling that great at the moment - little manic highs and lots of unmotivating lows.... niggling insecurities, and I hate the way I look. That's all.
Anyway, on with the show....
Reading: The Science of Harry Potter - surprisingly interesting.
Listening: Movie soundtracks and other highly emotive music.
Playing: Blood Rayne purely because I've conquered everything else.
Researching: Anatomy and 1950's frocks.
Writing: Notes for work... damn, no diary for so long
Making: 1950's petticoat, plaster heart cross sections, costumes..
Being: Unmotivated and whiny and silly and childish. Hopefully this will pass.
Seeing: proof that I'm cared for.
Believing: That I can do this art shit.
Planning: Something fun.
Deciding: That life is too short to let certain things upset me.
Pushing: myself out of bed every work morning.
Wanting: To stay curled in bed like a content cat this morning. Then some artwork, then play on this fine (for once) day.
Chastising: Myself for being silly
Dreaming: Of time and space to do whatever I want.
Waiting: To find a new, better job
Building: An evil empire bwahahahaha.
Contemplating: buying a crappy cheap house in the wilds of Tasmania and creating a comic book Victoria a la Mark Ryden.
Craving: Blini.
Watching: My clothes get tighter - diet starts now!
Wishing: That I could be a little more organised.
and the obligatory add on....
Needing: More time and more energy.
Oh and PS: My brother's B'day party was *dire*. It was the single most horribly depressing hour I've had in some time. I left with a sense of the utter futility of my life and a very real death wish. It didn't help that it was set in a horrible suburban Pokies venue. Why did react in such a extreme manner? No idea, but *fuck*, hope it doesn't happen again anytime soon.
When I get a moment to examine my thoughts a bit more rationally, I'll post. My head is a bit all over the place, which I am painfully aware of. Times like these I should be quarantined. (sorry tcpip)
Not that it'll be less dross like than this post I'm sure.... I'm not feeling that great at the moment - little manic highs and lots of unmotivating lows.... niggling insecurities, and I hate the way I look. That's all.
Anyway, on with the show....
Reading: The Science of Harry Potter - surprisingly interesting.
Listening: Movie soundtracks and other highly emotive music.
Playing: Blood Rayne purely because I've conquered everything else.
Researching: Anatomy and 1950's frocks.
Writing: Notes for work... damn, no diary for so long
Making: 1950's petticoat, plaster heart cross sections, costumes..
Being: Unmotivated and whiny and silly and childish. Hopefully this will pass.
Seeing: proof that I'm cared for.
Believing: That I can do this art shit.
Planning: Something fun.
Deciding: That life is too short to let certain things upset me.
Pushing: myself out of bed every work morning.
Wanting: To stay curled in bed like a content cat this morning. Then some artwork, then play on this fine (for once) day.
Chastising: Myself for being silly
Dreaming: Of time and space to do whatever I want.
Waiting: To find a new, better job
Building: An evil empire bwahahahaha.
Contemplating: buying a crappy cheap house in the wilds of Tasmania and creating a comic book Victoria a la Mark Ryden.
Craving: Blini.
Watching: My clothes get tighter - diet starts now!
Wishing: That I could be a little more organised.
and the obligatory add on....
Needing: More time and more energy.
Oh and PS: My brother's B'day party was *dire*. It was the single most horribly depressing hour I've had in some time. I left with a sense of the utter futility of my life and a very real death wish. It didn't help that it was set in a horrible suburban Pokies venue. Why did react in such a extreme manner? No idea, but *fuck*, hope it doesn't happen again anytime soon.