(no subject)
*mumble, mumble,mumble*
Watching porn a few hours before going to see Alice in Wonderand. Am having doubts about the movie. I should be doing sth else instead, though. Sleep. Write.
Oh yes, writing. Fuck. Don't get me started. Woke up last Sunday morning feeling all belligerent and bent on doing some fucking writing. Wrote about 3 pages, and after ensuring the new story held some interest for me, i put it aside. How very wrong.
Woke up today, and went back to the story. This time's in Greek, and inspired by a book I read by Philip Roth. Maybe it was a rip-off, but I jus wanted to write, I didn't care what. what intrigued me in the particular book (The Humbling), ans also in Paul Auster's Invisible which i've also read lately, was that shit was happening, like, random incidents with no particular significance, no...cohesion in meaning. And then, in the end, well, nothing happens. I mean, yes, sth does happen, but I went, "so what? what next?"And this kind of encouraged me to write.
But today, I wrote and it was ike not writing at all. This sense of dread and horror and disgust coming from my own words. Oh well. Going back to my porn.
Watching porn a few hours before going to see Alice in Wonderand. Am having doubts about the movie. I should be doing sth else instead, though. Sleep. Write.
Oh yes, writing. Fuck. Don't get me started. Woke up last Sunday morning feeling all belligerent and bent on doing some fucking writing. Wrote about 3 pages, and after ensuring the new story held some interest for me, i put it aside. How very wrong.
Woke up today, and went back to the story. This time's in Greek, and inspired by a book I read by Philip Roth. Maybe it was a rip-off, but I jus wanted to write, I didn't care what. what intrigued me in the particular book (The Humbling), ans also in Paul Auster's Invisible which i've also read lately, was that shit was happening, like, random incidents with no particular significance, no...cohesion in meaning. And then, in the end, well, nothing happens. I mean, yes, sth does happen, but I went, "so what? what next?"And this kind of encouraged me to write.
But today, I wrote and it was ike not writing at all. This sense of dread and horror and disgust coming from my own words. Oh well. Going back to my porn.