Spoilers: I never use this LJ
TAKE THAT, JAPANESE MIDTERM. MAYBE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY "GRADUATE" IN YOUR IMPOSSIBLE LANGUAGE, BUT I WILL SURE AS HELL DO IT ANYWAY.
Also:
Anyone who has talked to me recently might have gotten the impression that I am stressed out! This is, unfortunately, true. This quarter is kicking my ass--not necessarily academically, as I think I've got all of my classes pretty much under control (Japanese is, as always, an uphill battle, but I do all the homework and understand what we do in class, so that's... progress). My constant stress and general displeasure is related to everything else in my life! This is not an improvement. Allow me to elucidate in list form:
1) I love (LOVE) my poetry class with Professor Teddy Bear, but it is giving me existential crises. "Who am I?" was my middle school question. "Why do I write?" was my high school one. This year, apparently, my question is "What am I trying to do with my writing?" It sounds sort of flippant, but it is actually the most difficult question I have ever wrestled with, and it is slowly driving me insane.
My basic writing philosophy is "write what you would want to read." This is a reaction to "write what you know," because while I fundamentally agree that writing stuff you're familiar with is a good way to get realism in your work, that phrase is pretty limiting to me. I want to write about the Robotic Revolution, so I look up fiction on robots, read it, and get inspired--I don't know how robots work in real life, I know how I would want them to work in my story. Math scares me and science intimidates me, but that's not going to stop me from wanting to write and read science fiction. My point is getting a little convoluted...
Anyway, Professor Teddy Bear writes because he wants to influence his community. He wants to save the environment around where he lives, and where he is raising his daughter. He wants his writing to work not only as a personal statement about the problems he sees every day, but as a call to action. All I have ever wanted to do with my writing was fill up my Personal Writing Sphere.
[Personal Writing Sphere: the works of literature with which I am familiar. "There are too many books on vampires in my Personal Writing Sphere." "I wish there were more books with strong female protagonists in my Personal Writing Sphere--perhaps I should write my own."]
I imagine this Sphere surrounding me like a giant hamster ball made of concrete and words, and all I have is my little bucket and a trowel. I want to fill up the cracks in my Sphere--I want to write things I haven't read before but know I would enjoy, like lesbian space pirates coming to Earth to trade stolen art and possibly awesome laser musket technology. The question is, is writing for myself 100% selfish? I doubt that Laserbians: Sexy Space Babes with Lasers would make my hometown, let alone the world, a better place. Am I missing the point? Am I squandering what I've been given? I'm in an amazing college with amazing tools at my disposal--am I being a jerk?
I guess what I'm saying is, I love writing, but I don't know what happens after I write. Up until now, I've just saved it on my harddrive, opened another blank document, and wrote some more. I've never cared about getting stuff published other than in a "what would I say if I got famous and Oprah were interviewing me on her show" way. Writing is the one constant in my life, and right now I feel like it's... breaking up with me, or something. Relationship issues.
2) Lots of areas of my life are in transit at the moment. I am losing friends and making potential ones; I'm getting used to living in a new house and cooking for myself; I'm trying to be more financially responsible while simultaneously needing to spend more money just to eat; I am writing religious poetry when I never before considered myself a religious person or a poet; I'm turning 20 years old in February and there are too many things I haven't done. (Two decades of life! I am two ten-year-olds! A year after 20, legal drinking! A year after that, I graduate from college! A year after that, OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING STOP THIS RIDE I WANT TO GET OFF)
All I keep hearing from people is "don't worry about it," or "you'll be fine." Here is what I am saying back to you while you say this: "I know. Shut up." Dismissing my problems as normal doesn't make them not problems. I need help coping with them, dealing with them as they arise--not the assurance that the world isn't going to explode. I know it won't, but that is the lowest common denominator of what I want. I want my life (read: myself) to be up to my standards, which are, admittedly, very high. I'm looking for a counselor on campus to whom I can talk about this stuff, but I can never seem to find time to actually walk in and say, "Hi, I am a teenager who is about to become an Adult with a capital A. Can I cry on or around you."
3) ...Relationship. I am in love with my girlfriend--that alone is pretty terrifying. This is my first relationship! I don't want to mess it up! Of course, I don't have any experience in this area, and I have spent a great deal of my life not caring about it, so... I will make mistakes. But knowing that we are both delicate emotionally at the moment makes me... even more delicate, I suppose. We're both just people. This is not a trial run--actual emotions are involved, here. I don't know how to make MYSELF happy, let alone someone else, let alone someone else I can't even hug because they live across the universe and are very busy with their own stuff. I understand! I just don't like it.
Also, when I talk about this personal issue with some specific other people (initials G. R., D. G.), they tell me "that doesn't sound healthy" or "don't get too excited about it" or "you need to prioritize yourself above your relationship." You guys are just... wrong. I can't dress that up for you. I am in a happy, healthy relationship. Sorry. I know you wanted to date me, that isn't happening, don't make me paranoid that I'm turning my first relationship into a mess. I need your support, not your projection.
Pell, if you read this--I'll talk to you more about this on gchat if you want. I just needed to... urgh. Tell people to knock it off, even if they'll never get the message. If this is too personal, I can edit it.
That's the gist of my life at the moment, I suppose. There are other things to worry about, like not understanding wtf Honoré de Balzac is talking about in his novel, or why I should care about Chaucer when it is the least personally relevant class I have ever taken, barring Milton. These are the biggies, though, and these are the ones that I'll look back on and be like "Yeah, college was great, but I am NEVER doing that shit again. There isn't enough money in the world."
In other news, my last midterm is tomorrow, and then Halloween. Mom, I'm sorry: I am probably going to dress as a loose woman. However, I'm not planning on leaving the house--I will probably spend the entire night in a short skirt playing videogames. (I think I'm sorry about being sort of a loser, too. Whoops!)
Also:
Anyone who has talked to me recently might have gotten the impression that I am stressed out! This is, unfortunately, true. This quarter is kicking my ass--not necessarily academically, as I think I've got all of my classes pretty much under control (Japanese is, as always, an uphill battle, but I do all the homework and understand what we do in class, so that's... progress). My constant stress and general displeasure is related to everything else in my life! This is not an improvement. Allow me to elucidate in list form:
1) I love (LOVE) my poetry class with Professor Teddy Bear, but it is giving me existential crises. "Who am I?" was my middle school question. "Why do I write?" was my high school one. This year, apparently, my question is "What am I trying to do with my writing?" It sounds sort of flippant, but it is actually the most difficult question I have ever wrestled with, and it is slowly driving me insane.
My basic writing philosophy is "write what you would want to read." This is a reaction to "write what you know," because while I fundamentally agree that writing stuff you're familiar with is a good way to get realism in your work, that phrase is pretty limiting to me. I want to write about the Robotic Revolution, so I look up fiction on robots, read it, and get inspired--I don't know how robots work in real life, I know how I would want them to work in my story. Math scares me and science intimidates me, but that's not going to stop me from wanting to write and read science fiction. My point is getting a little convoluted...
Anyway, Professor Teddy Bear writes because he wants to influence his community. He wants to save the environment around where he lives, and where he is raising his daughter. He wants his writing to work not only as a personal statement about the problems he sees every day, but as a call to action. All I have ever wanted to do with my writing was fill up my Personal Writing Sphere.
[Personal Writing Sphere: the works of literature with which I am familiar. "There are too many books on vampires in my Personal Writing Sphere." "I wish there were more books with strong female protagonists in my Personal Writing Sphere--perhaps I should write my own."]
I imagine this Sphere surrounding me like a giant hamster ball made of concrete and words, and all I have is my little bucket and a trowel. I want to fill up the cracks in my Sphere--I want to write things I haven't read before but know I would enjoy, like lesbian space pirates coming to Earth to trade stolen art and possibly awesome laser musket technology. The question is, is writing for myself 100% selfish? I doubt that Laserbians: Sexy Space Babes with Lasers would make my hometown, let alone the world, a better place. Am I missing the point? Am I squandering what I've been given? I'm in an amazing college with amazing tools at my disposal--am I being a jerk?
I guess what I'm saying is, I love writing, but I don't know what happens after I write. Up until now, I've just saved it on my harddrive, opened another blank document, and wrote some more. I've never cared about getting stuff published other than in a "what would I say if I got famous and Oprah were interviewing me on her show" way. Writing is the one constant in my life, and right now I feel like it's... breaking up with me, or something. Relationship issues.
2) Lots of areas of my life are in transit at the moment. I am losing friends and making potential ones; I'm getting used to living in a new house and cooking for myself; I'm trying to be more financially responsible while simultaneously needing to spend more money just to eat; I am writing religious poetry when I never before considered myself a religious person or a poet; I'm turning 20 years old in February and there are too many things I haven't done. (Two decades of life! I am two ten-year-olds! A year after 20, legal drinking! A year after that, I graduate from college! A year after that, OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING STOP THIS RIDE I WANT TO GET OFF)
All I keep hearing from people is "don't worry about it," or "you'll be fine." Here is what I am saying back to you while you say this: "I know. Shut up." Dismissing my problems as normal doesn't make them not problems. I need help coping with them, dealing with them as they arise--not the assurance that the world isn't going to explode. I know it won't, but that is the lowest common denominator of what I want. I want my life (read: myself) to be up to my standards, which are, admittedly, very high. I'm looking for a counselor on campus to whom I can talk about this stuff, but I can never seem to find time to actually walk in and say, "Hi, I am a teenager who is about to become an Adult with a capital A. Can I cry on or around you."
3) ...Relationship. I am in love with my girlfriend--that alone is pretty terrifying. This is my first relationship! I don't want to mess it up! Of course, I don't have any experience in this area, and I have spent a great deal of my life not caring about it, so... I will make mistakes. But knowing that we are both delicate emotionally at the moment makes me... even more delicate, I suppose. We're both just people. This is not a trial run--actual emotions are involved, here. I don't know how to make MYSELF happy, let alone someone else, let alone someone else I can't even hug because they live across the universe and are very busy with their own stuff. I understand! I just don't like it.
Also, when I talk about this personal issue with some specific other people (initials G. R., D. G.), they tell me "that doesn't sound healthy" or "don't get too excited about it" or "you need to prioritize yourself above your relationship." You guys are just... wrong. I can't dress that up for you. I am in a happy, healthy relationship. Sorry. I know you wanted to date me, that isn't happening, don't make me paranoid that I'm turning my first relationship into a mess. I need your support, not your projection.
Pell, if you read this--I'll talk to you more about this on gchat if you want. I just needed to... urgh. Tell people to knock it off, even if they'll never get the message. If this is too personal, I can edit it.
That's the gist of my life at the moment, I suppose. There are other things to worry about, like not understanding wtf Honoré de Balzac is talking about in his novel, or why I should care about Chaucer when it is the least personally relevant class I have ever taken, barring Milton. These are the biggies, though, and these are the ones that I'll look back on and be like "Yeah, college was great, but I am NEVER doing that shit again. There isn't enough money in the world."
In other news, my last midterm is tomorrow, and then Halloween. Mom, I'm sorry: I am probably going to dress as a loose woman. However, I'm not planning on leaving the house--I will probably spend the entire night in a short skirt playing videogames. (I think I'm sorry about being sort of a loser, too. Whoops!)