(no subject)
I confuse myself w/ this journal. I think I am going to take a break from it for awhile. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. My words seem to either emphasize something small, or denounce something big in my life. Then I’m elaborating on and on about something completely false, or atleast partially false, and although the end product of my rambling tangents is something real, I always feel fake when I read over past journal entries. It’s my craft and it’s stupid: I can elaborate on and on about absolutely nothing. If I have enough to say, I can make a simple affair seem humungous. I feel like a completely different person every time I take the time to actually think. Writing is just odd to me now. I am constantly trying to out-write myself or out-wit myself. I think I might be a lot happier if I simply let myself FEEL my emotions, instead of having to explain them. It’s gotten to the point where my words define my moods. What I write, is almost mechanically how I feel. I am reading through some of my old journals and I can’t for the life of me remember what the hell was going through my mind. I am wondering if writing actually helps. Maybe I have too much goin on right now. I am going to pack a few things away for awhile, do some secretive internal sub-conscience healing. I’ll be good again.
Note to self: watch more Sex in the City; it makes you not such a hopeless romantic. I hate being a creature of sentiment!
Note to self: watch more Sex in the City; it makes you not such a hopeless romantic. I hate being a creature of sentiment!