(no subject)
The urge to be prolific only seems to occur at the least convenient times. I seem to have the most interesting ideas when my teacher is reading Shakespeare with appropriate voices for each character. I love people who read aloud. I love people who have distinct characters when they read plays. But something about my endearing little teacher and his intermittently whispering and shouting voice instills some sort of cathartic desire in me and I walk home quickly because there's only so much you can record while attempting to appear attentive.
I told him that something he said in class inspired me to write a story I'd intended to write for a long time. At that point, though, I could not remember what it was that he said, so the compliment was sort of half-assed. He seemed pleased enough. Reminders of one's own capacity to be interesting are always nice.
I've been feeling odd, though. I intermittently want to be ignored completely and lavished with attention. I'm easily annoyed when I don't receive attention, and just as easily annoyed when I receive too much. I suppose that's just my nature, though. I don't know if, given the option, I would be my friend. I might want to have a few drinks with myself and laugh very, very loud or get up and dance to old songs, but there's a certain unpleasantness about my company at times that I see and do nothing about.
I do think I might be a good sidekick, though. I wouldn't want to be the leading man, but the sidekick role would suit me well. I can be very expressive facially. I can make some good witty remarks every once in a while. Like the other day when Drew and I were in 7-11 and I didn't want to buy a very ugly lime.
"Gen, I'm sure this lime is fine. It--"
"has a great personality, or what? It's ugly, Drew."
He laughed, anyway.
Work is dull today.
I told him that something he said in class inspired me to write a story I'd intended to write for a long time. At that point, though, I could not remember what it was that he said, so the compliment was sort of half-assed. He seemed pleased enough. Reminders of one's own capacity to be interesting are always nice.
I've been feeling odd, though. I intermittently want to be ignored completely and lavished with attention. I'm easily annoyed when I don't receive attention, and just as easily annoyed when I receive too much. I suppose that's just my nature, though. I don't know if, given the option, I would be my friend. I might want to have a few drinks with myself and laugh very, very loud or get up and dance to old songs, but there's a certain unpleasantness about my company at times that I see and do nothing about.
I do think I might be a good sidekick, though. I wouldn't want to be the leading man, but the sidekick role would suit me well. I can be very expressive facially. I can make some good witty remarks every once in a while. Like the other day when Drew and I were in 7-11 and I didn't want to buy a very ugly lime.
"Gen, I'm sure this lime is fine. It--"
"has a great personality, or what? It's ugly, Drew."
He laughed, anyway.
Work is dull today.