Rough.
Welcome, my dear camucks. Today, I'd like to start by a nice bit of verse; for those of you following along, please open your hymnals to Hamlet, II.ii.
I have of late--but
wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most
excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not
me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
you seem to say so.
My, but that was warming. Now, I shall cut your Bard high short by nattering at length about the real life blues bull that I have had the stupidity to bring upon myself. If you don't wish to read (any of you who still read this journal, at least), feel free to send your browser elsewhere - truly, if I were you, I would heed this advice.
For those of you remaining, I shall attempt to be brief.
Still nothing from ADV, after two phone calls (again, I must note how unsettling it is when the operator has a voice mail box). Perhaps, come Monday, I shall fax them my information before calling off the hunt. I do fear I shall have not-nice words for the next ADV rep I encounter.
Said blow to my (rather fragile) ego sent me into another funk, for which I am eternally grateful for people pestering me even when I didn't want to talk. I read - quite a great deal - in this interim.
And I thought to seek solace in the torn and ever-active mind of my high/primary school detective, but found myself at a total loss. I was wholly uninspired, even as I saw my peers writing, progressing plot. I chased thoughts doggedly, but when it didn't hurt to think, the thoughts evaded my grasp. Indeed, a recent date gave me a stroke of genius, allowing me to go ahead and give the more quiet characters something to do... And then I had to leave for work, entry unfinished. That night, work left me raw in more ways than one, and I shied at anything needing my specific attention.
Work is rough, sleep is rough, consciousness is rough. Even though you see many words before you (alas, I had only wanted to be brief!), it took perhaps an hour to come up with this later part, my head throbbing as it yearned to both let my mind run free and cower in a blissful corner of oblivion.
I see I have a great need to find a bed which can give me sounder sleep; and a note to myself to force writing, reading, and drawing every day. I am wryly amused at this sluggish realisation, for it is on the heels of a rather productive supper, wherein I drew rough costume designs upon the table.
If you have come to the end of my tale, I thank you for taking time out to read my long overdue truths. Now, onto your daily scheduled silliness - shoo!
I have of late--but
wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most
excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not
me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
you seem to say so.
My, but that was warming. Now, I shall cut your Bard high short by nattering at length about the real life blues bull that I have had the stupidity to bring upon myself. If you don't wish to read (any of you who still read this journal, at least), feel free to send your browser elsewhere - truly, if I were you, I would heed this advice.
For those of you remaining, I shall attempt to be brief.
Still nothing from ADV, after two phone calls (again, I must note how unsettling it is when the operator has a voice mail box). Perhaps, come Monday, I shall fax them my information before calling off the hunt. I do fear I shall have not-nice words for the next ADV rep I encounter.
Said blow to my (rather fragile) ego sent me into another funk, for which I am eternally grateful for people pestering me even when I didn't want to talk. I read - quite a great deal - in this interim.
And I thought to seek solace in the torn and ever-active mind of my high/primary school detective, but found myself at a total loss. I was wholly uninspired, even as I saw my peers writing, progressing plot. I chased thoughts doggedly, but when it didn't hurt to think, the thoughts evaded my grasp. Indeed, a recent date gave me a stroke of genius, allowing me to go ahead and give the more quiet characters something to do... And then I had to leave for work, entry unfinished. That night, work left me raw in more ways than one, and I shied at anything needing my specific attention.
Work is rough, sleep is rough, consciousness is rough. Even though you see many words before you (alas, I had only wanted to be brief!), it took perhaps an hour to come up with this later part, my head throbbing as it yearned to both let my mind run free and cower in a blissful corner of oblivion.
I see I have a great need to find a bed which can give me sounder sleep; and a note to myself to force writing, reading, and drawing every day. I am wryly amused at this sluggish realisation, for it is on the heels of a rather productive supper, wherein I drew rough costume designs upon the table.
If you have come to the end of my tale, I thank you for taking time out to read my long overdue truths. Now, onto your daily scheduled silliness - shoo!