I am drowsy. Defined: that warm, lovely place, where you can feel your dreams just about to pop through to the surface. The veil between dreams and waking has become thin.
I half want to write; but to write would be to start down a path that I shouldn't; and so the other half of me wants to avoid beginning a thought. If thoughts are arrows, I want to put the quiver down.
I want a day when I leave the house at 8am, and don't come home til 8pm, with a bevvy of new clothes to cover my threadbare ass.
I want to get on top of Crisis Line stuff. It feels like I might have more than a full day of work to do there; which makes me less inclined to start. I think a lot of procrastination comes from knowing that there's more to do than you can actually accomplish, but (the generic) you hasn't consciously admitted it yet. ...I desperately need a new system for dealing with PWCL email. I've got print-outs spilling all over my desk at this point.
I want a block of time that feels free and open, without the wolves of necessity barking in my ear. That, so I can make a website about different artists' interpretations of Elder Things.
I want to want to deal with writing and with film-making. But I don't. I kinda want a vacation.
I have that feeling of having been sick, coming back to school and not recognizing any of the topics that are being talked about in class. There's no good reason for this; I was relatively on-top-of things the day before yesterday. It's not as if anything has particularly changed around me. From where is coming this panic of disorientation? (Panic too strong a word... Replace maybe with "nervous jolt".)
Today is October 15 (by how I reckon time)... Hard to believe the month is half over. And this is the first month of the fourth quarter. And it's two weeks til my birthday.
Was wondering earlier today; just checked; first face-to-face with gl. was on Aug. 7. Sure 'nuff, just a hair over two months. *blissful grin spreads across face*
Maybe I'm suffering an aftershock from the HPL filmfest last week. After all, that was basically four days straight. Monday day with Nefarious, Tuesday night and Wednesday day. Got the basics of housecleaning done on Tuesday -- had run out of groceries essentially. Bad sign when there's no OJ in the fridge, given I buy four at a time just to avoid such situations. OK, now I'm beginning to feel a little more oriented.
...You know that place where you don't seem to remember what you did yesterday, let alone for the rest of the preceding week? When I get to that point, it's important to try to piece it back together, tell myself the story of how I got here. Then suddenly everything makes sense.
I want to go walking on the Butte again. Suspect my cardiovascular took a hit from all that theatre-sitting. Well, honestly, I don't want to walk right -now-. It's chilly. Anyone noticed that it's suddenly cold and wet at night? I still have the attitude of "oh, look, autumn is coming"... Wonder when I'll start believing it's already here. ...It's unappealing to think about walking, if I'm chilly while thinking about it. And I feel kinda greasy and floppy on the inside. But I can imagine breathing again. And coming home to a hot shower. It would be good.
I feel a little bad about being in a cranky / weird mood when I read from "A Night in the Lonesome October" tonight. Some time by myself will do me good. It sucks to simultaneously want that, but to also already miss she-who-shall-not-be-named. Huh. Kind of Faustian. ...By which I mean, that happiness with what I have is (just at this moment) being tainted by wanting another thing as well. If we were so simple that we only had one emotion at a time, only one desire in our minds, maybe the devil would have our souls just-like-that.
Yeah, I think I've hit that point where I need to spend some time alone. And it tears me in half. Cuz at the same moment I still want more of this delicious time together; and I can't help but nervously anticipate that as a matter of self-defense, those I've been spending time with will respect my solitude with a fierceness that I don't want.
I want to learn to do work, be alone, take some time away -- without severing the ethereal ties between me and my closemates. I want to take them with me. I want to declare where I'm going, give an adequate map of the journey, so they can cheer me on, and feel reassured that I'll be returning. Had a really good conversation about that on Sunday night.
But of course, the reality is difficult. I need to figure out what I'm asking of folks. I don't want them to not ask to spend time with me. I want to be asked, even if they know that I've got plans (e.g. "can I come over tonight?"). Yet, folks will be discouraged if I predictably say "no", protecting my solitary plan. [Self-depricating remark: have you ever known someone to go on so? (Just had to get it out of my system.)]
Dammit, it's 2am again.
Finished watching "Journey to the Center of the Earth" (the old version). Ate half-a-bag of cheesy chips. ...It's good to write again. Seems like the blogging's been sparse lately.
Time. It's always time.
I half want to write; but to write would be to start down a path that I shouldn't; and so the other half of me wants to avoid beginning a thought. If thoughts are arrows, I want to put the quiver down.
I want a day when I leave the house at 8am, and don't come home til 8pm, with a bevvy of new clothes to cover my threadbare ass.
I want to get on top of Crisis Line stuff. It feels like I might have more than a full day of work to do there; which makes me less inclined to start. I think a lot of procrastination comes from knowing that there's more to do than you can actually accomplish, but (the generic) you hasn't consciously admitted it yet. ...I desperately need a new system for dealing with PWCL email. I've got print-outs spilling all over my desk at this point.
I want a block of time that feels free and open, without the wolves of necessity barking in my ear. That, so I can make a website about different artists' interpretations of Elder Things.
I want to want to deal with writing and with film-making. But I don't. I kinda want a vacation.
I have that feeling of having been sick, coming back to school and not recognizing any of the topics that are being talked about in class. There's no good reason for this; I was relatively on-top-of things the day before yesterday. It's not as if anything has particularly changed around me. From where is coming this panic of disorientation? (Panic too strong a word... Replace maybe with "nervous jolt".)
Today is October 15 (by how I reckon time)... Hard to believe the month is half over. And this is the first month of the fourth quarter. And it's two weeks til my birthday.
Was wondering earlier today; just checked; first face-to-face with gl. was on Aug. 7. Sure 'nuff, just a hair over two months. *blissful grin spreads across face*
Maybe I'm suffering an aftershock from the HPL filmfest last week. After all, that was basically four days straight. Monday day with Nefarious, Tuesday night and Wednesday day. Got the basics of housecleaning done on Tuesday -- had run out of groceries essentially. Bad sign when there's no OJ in the fridge, given I buy four at a time just to avoid such situations. OK, now I'm beginning to feel a little more oriented.
...You know that place where you don't seem to remember what you did yesterday, let alone for the rest of the preceding week? When I get to that point, it's important to try to piece it back together, tell myself the story of how I got here. Then suddenly everything makes sense.
I want to go walking on the Butte again. Suspect my cardiovascular took a hit from all that theatre-sitting. Well, honestly, I don't want to walk right -now-. It's chilly. Anyone noticed that it's suddenly cold and wet at night? I still have the attitude of "oh, look, autumn is coming"... Wonder when I'll start believing it's already here. ...It's unappealing to think about walking, if I'm chilly while thinking about it. And I feel kinda greasy and floppy on the inside. But I can imagine breathing again. And coming home to a hot shower. It would be good.
I feel a little bad about being in a cranky / weird mood when I read from "A Night in the Lonesome October" tonight. Some time by myself will do me good. It sucks to simultaneously want that, but to also already miss she-who-shall-not-be-named. Huh. Kind of Faustian. ...By which I mean, that happiness with what I have is (just at this moment) being tainted by wanting another thing as well. If we were so simple that we only had one emotion at a time, only one desire in our minds, maybe the devil would have our souls just-like-that.
Yeah, I think I've hit that point where I need to spend some time alone. And it tears me in half. Cuz at the same moment I still want more of this delicious time together; and I can't help but nervously anticipate that as a matter of self-defense, those I've been spending time with will respect my solitude with a fierceness that I don't want.
I want to learn to do work, be alone, take some time away -- without severing the ethereal ties between me and my closemates. I want to take them with me. I want to declare where I'm going, give an adequate map of the journey, so they can cheer me on, and feel reassured that I'll be returning. Had a really good conversation about that on Sunday night.
But of course, the reality is difficult. I need to figure out what I'm asking of folks. I don't want them to not ask to spend time with me. I want to be asked, even if they know that I've got plans (e.g. "can I come over tonight?"). Yet, folks will be discouraged if I predictably say "no", protecting my solitary plan. [Self-depricating remark: have you ever known someone to go on so? (Just had to get it out of my system.)]
Dammit, it's 2am again.
Finished watching "Journey to the Center of the Earth" (the old version). Ate half-a-bag of cheesy chips. ...It's good to write again. Seems like the blogging's been sparse lately.
Time. It's always time.
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