And so I'm stuck with the unique problem of being the most vulnerable to writing shitty poetry that-I-will-be-embarassed-about-forever and unable to fight the urge since I have to write poems for class and yet I don't want to because I know how bad they'll be. I never really wrote poetry, although I kind of used to in the other journal I had, ( Read more... )

     I probably say that everything is "the most depressing _____ ever," but right now it's my poetry class. This isn't to suggest anything about the professor (who I like) or my classmates (who seem nice enough) or anything, but merely my own failings as a writer. Somebody asked me a couple of weeks ago in my Fiction class what my concentration ( Read more... )

Never have I been so worried about a class that should be so easy! In the fall, I'll be taking Form and Technique of Poetry as a requirement for my creative writing major. The problem is that I know nothing about poetry. When I say this, please do not assume that I know some, as if I've read Bukowski and Emily Dickinson but the rest is a blur; I ( Read more... )

There's a really beautiful song by Cat Power that I've had in my head the past two days. This is what she sings:

( Lyrics )

You know the biz.

Introduction to Literature
DULCE ET DECORUM ESTby Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks ( Read more... )

Today
Today I will make
An entry using haikus
To explain my life

Ebay
Twin Falls Idaho
I ordered off of Ebay
I haven't seen it

Annie Hall
Woody Allen is
A brilliant director
This is his very best

Manhattan
Woody falls in love
The woman is seventeen
Life imitates art

Work
I will work at Four
I will go home at 10ish
What a wasteful day

Yahoo ( Read more... )

Inspiration is a funny thing. I am trying desperately to be inspired in this room, though all I have is a fluffy, plastic rabbit and a comicly large calculator. I turn some music on, and it'll be the same four or five songs on repeat. These songs speak to me, as all music does, though I feel it'd be pointless to tell the same story of the song ( Read more... )

Red lights and a wet windsheild. Shaky hands and a warm blanket. One look. One pause. A million different meanings. They say life is not like the movies, and that's true. I think life is a lot better than the movies ( Read more... )

Some People

write entries

-that are-
unevenly spaced

AND
extremely ambiguious.

For example:

last nite...

you are my death.

Comments?
1 comment.
shrineoalexWTF!?!?!?!?!?!?

The end.

Alex

If I were a girl...
a poem by Alex Czysz

( Read more... )