(no subject)
People should remember that trying to help when something doesn't concern them usually only makes things worse.
I understand the need, but there's the truth of it.
Completely frustrating: being a fiction writer but trying to write poetry for class. And having so much that I just want to pour out but being restricted by form and style.
Writing was the one thing that I always felt I did well, no matter what. It was so effortless sometimes. I mean, it was always work, but there would be days I'd hit a paragraph and just go for pages. Sure, it wasn't grade-A stuff, especially not on the first run-through, but it was like setting something free.
And now, since this class, I feel like an idiot.
Eh. I've been an emotional wreck since Saturday. Well, to be honest, since before Saturday, but that's when things got worse. I feel like crap--angry, confused, sorrowful, terribly depressed, shaken and torn. I feel two-faced and vulnerable, and since everyone has gone back to their campuses, terribly abandoned. I have these bursts of rage and then I feel like scum.
Oh well, back to poetry since I have no life.
-spite-
me
I understand the need, but there's the truth of it.
Completely frustrating: being a fiction writer but trying to write poetry for class. And having so much that I just want to pour out but being restricted by form and style.
Writing was the one thing that I always felt I did well, no matter what. It was so effortless sometimes. I mean, it was always work, but there would be days I'd hit a paragraph and just go for pages. Sure, it wasn't grade-A stuff, especially not on the first run-through, but it was like setting something free.
And now, since this class, I feel like an idiot.
Eh. I've been an emotional wreck since Saturday. Well, to be honest, since before Saturday, but that's when things got worse. I feel like crap--angry, confused, sorrowful, terribly depressed, shaken and torn. I feel two-faced and vulnerable, and since everyone has gone back to their campuses, terribly abandoned. I have these bursts of rage and then I feel like scum.
Oh well, back to poetry since I have no life.
-spite-
me