Friday, March 25, 2016

A Series of Fragmented Events

My brain is scattered. That happens to me occasionally (read: always). I love my little creative fragments like dear children. I just wish they loved me enough to stop playing hide-seek in my mind.  

A while back, I read word of a study that said that ranting is actually not good for you. I wish now that I had given that article more than a glance. It would help me justify to myself why I shouldn’t spew vitriol about some of my classes, or express it with thinly veiled sarcasm. Ugh. Moving on.  

I see a neighbor of mine every now and then. It’s the kind of thing where we sometimes do, sometimes don’t acknowledge each other, but where I am sure that if we were to be stuck in a crucial baggage situation at an airport, we would commiserate like old comrades. It is unfortunate that it sometimes takes some kind of crisis for relationships to really start, don’t you think? I mean, my neighbor is right here, right now. What stops me from reaching out? See my last post for insight into that…  

Said neighbor’s father is going to be another set of eyes reviewing our work in my fiction writing class. Since ranting is bad for the constitution, I will refrain from recording my true feelings on the matter here (and in the unlikely occasion that he finds and reads this blog, understand). Suffice it to say that I am nervous. 

I feel like he will expect more of me because his son will have said something about me (like how unfriendly I am for not having properly introduced myself by now). I am honestly afraid that that will color his opinion of my work. This art is subjective enough without personal vendettas or preconceptions or--  You know what? I feel like I am on Tumblr right now, creating pseudo-emotional musings to justify my self-ascribed title of “artist” (disclaimer: not all Tumblr content is that. It just happens to be where I encounter it most). 

I am going to join someone else’s world now. 

Today, writing isn’t helping me move away from my nerves. My brain still feels like shattered glass. Thank the stars for fiction. And fairies.

I need fairies.



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