(no subject)
I had horrible dreams about a woman dying of an abscess and my jaw has been hurting for most of today and my boyfriend has been behaving like a belligerent arsehole for no reason that he or I can explain. The weather has been glorious but I've spent most of the day sitting in the corner in the library trying not to get up and murder someone who is in there every day hawking up lumps of phlegm and having load conversations with people on the phone despite being told repeatedly not to.
NaNo
Chapter 16: Regroup
Chapter 17: The trick to confidence
password: blackmagic
overall word count: 71,800
I'm debating taking tomorrow off, but I think what I might do is go to the museum with Holly, have my morning chat with Jess, and then when I get back in the evening do as much of a WRITE YOU FUCKER WRITE YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU WRITE SOMETHING as I can manage, and then berate myself forever because I've not lived up to my idiotic standards. BECAUSE IF I PLAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN THEN IT LOOKS LIKE I'M IN CONTROL OF MY OWN LIFE.
Blogs
I Came into my inheritance today
Decided to forgo emotions by writing a blog post and taking photos. I know they're in there. I just don't want to do anything about them.
Collating a kind of "best of" poetry collection on the assumption that I will never write anything good again. Am determining entrance largely based on "does it make me cry etc", the list is so far:
Abstinence/Absence
An Ordinary Joe
And In The End We Fill A Bodybag
Because I Howled Too Often
Biro-Punctured Womb
Colony Collapse
Don't Ask Me For Small Things
Lies on the Lines
On Preferring Brinkmanship
Pea Soup and Ten Bells' Gin
Phlebotomy: Poison Veins
Sodium
Sombre Reflection Didn't Pay Off Either
The Atheist
They Lied About Carthage
This Is A Story I Have Told Many Times Before
What We Learn From Our Mistakes Is Sometimes Just That We Want To Make Them Again
Silence in the Museum
Rhetoric
D'generation
Verba Volant, Scripta Manet
Pieces of the city are forming like islands
There Is No One Present In The Sweeping Gesture
As Long As There Are Rats
War Photographer
Crossed Wires
Actually Not Any Sort of Apology
Objection Without Conscience
Valuable Contribution
The Third Film To Use Shorelines As Metaphors
A Song For Days When Your Brain Is Trying To Kill You
in which no one differentiates between love and murder, suggestions for revision are welcome.
I feel like I ought to say more but I can't be bothered to say anything any more really.
NaNo
Chapter 16: Regroup
Chapter 17: The trick to confidence
password: blackmagic
overall word count: 71,800
I'm debating taking tomorrow off, but I think what I might do is go to the museum with Holly, have my morning chat with Jess, and then when I get back in the evening do as much of a WRITE YOU FUCKER WRITE YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU WRITE SOMETHING as I can manage, and then berate myself forever because I've not lived up to my idiotic standards. BECAUSE IF I PLAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN THEN IT LOOKS LIKE I'M IN CONTROL OF MY OWN LIFE.
Blogs
I Came into my inheritance today
Decided to forgo emotions by writing a blog post and taking photos. I know they're in there. I just don't want to do anything about them.
Collating a kind of "best of" poetry collection on the assumption that I will never write anything good again. Am determining entrance largely based on "does it make me cry etc", the list is so far:
Abstinence/Absence
An Ordinary Joe
And In The End We Fill A Bodybag
Because I Howled Too Often
Biro-Punctured Womb
Colony Collapse
Don't Ask Me For Small Things
Lies on the Lines
On Preferring Brinkmanship
Pea Soup and Ten Bells' Gin
Phlebotomy: Poison Veins
Sodium
Sombre Reflection Didn't Pay Off Either
The Atheist
They Lied About Carthage
This Is A Story I Have Told Many Times Before
What We Learn From Our Mistakes Is Sometimes Just That We Want To Make Them Again
Silence in the Museum
Rhetoric
D'generation
Verba Volant, Scripta Manet
Pieces of the city are forming like islands
There Is No One Present In The Sweeping Gesture
As Long As There Are Rats
War Photographer
Crossed Wires
Actually Not Any Sort of Apology
Objection Without Conscience
Valuable Contribution
The Third Film To Use Shorelines As Metaphors
A Song For Days When Your Brain Is Trying To Kill You
in which no one differentiates between love and murder, suggestions for revision are welcome.
I feel like I ought to say more but I can't be bothered to say anything any more really.