to keep my nerves from going PAING! like a thousand breaking piano wires
i am in such a strange mood today... tonight... i had all these wild dreams last night vaguely tied into "marjorie morningstar" and when i woke up i felt like i wasn't quite myself. and i started writing something new... something entirely unlike everything else i've written and i don't know what it is yet or where it's coming from, but it's certainly interesting. it won't be done for a long time though, i can tell. it's going to be a longer work. so that is sort of exciting i guess. at least i'm writing something. i haven't worked on anything really, since i finished the epic. haha.
i've been packing for school, too, getting things ready to shove in the truck and shlep back to old adrian. i think i'm looking forward to it, but just not to certain parts of it... i'm still a little apprehensive about starting improv again, and working with crabby mike. he irritates me an awful lot. and he tells me that i complain too much. oh. sorry. i don't think i really complain much more than any other person in the world.
"she is trapped inside a month of grey
and they take a little every day." - counting crows.
blah i don't know why i'm getting depressed... i guess just because it's that waiting time. it's not quite anything right now, just that stagnant in between before i leave here, and get there. and i'm half there already, but i feel so final about leaving this house... and this place.
beth wrote this beautiful poem tonight at the red eye, about it, and there's one line, something about times gone by that she wishes she would have savored more... and i'm thinking about that, and how, one time, it *will* be the last time i turn that corner by the laundromat to go in there...there has to be a last time for everything, doesn't there? i don't want there to be. i want to keep going there forever. so that when i'm 40 or something or older i can say, god i've had some lovely times here. i was so jealous, somehow, that beth wrote it. i wish i had.... to be able to say what i feel about having to go away. what am i talking about? i think i'm going to go to bed maybe.
i've been packing for school, too, getting things ready to shove in the truck and shlep back to old adrian. i think i'm looking forward to it, but just not to certain parts of it... i'm still a little apprehensive about starting improv again, and working with crabby mike. he irritates me an awful lot. and he tells me that i complain too much. oh. sorry. i don't think i really complain much more than any other person in the world.
"she is trapped inside a month of grey
and they take a little every day." - counting crows.
blah i don't know why i'm getting depressed... i guess just because it's that waiting time. it's not quite anything right now, just that stagnant in between before i leave here, and get there. and i'm half there already, but i feel so final about leaving this house... and this place.
beth wrote this beautiful poem tonight at the red eye, about it, and there's one line, something about times gone by that she wishes she would have savored more... and i'm thinking about that, and how, one time, it *will* be the last time i turn that corner by the laundromat to go in there...there has to be a last time for everything, doesn't there? i don't want there to be. i want to keep going there forever. so that when i'm 40 or something or older i can say, god i've had some lovely times here. i was so jealous, somehow, that beth wrote it. i wish i had.... to be able to say what i feel about having to go away. what am i talking about? i think i'm going to go to bed maybe.