so i’m writing this on the smallest freaking keyboard in the history of typing things. Well, not really… but it’s mad small. The tiny keyboard for the 7 inch tablet that I got for my S.O for his birthday. still, it’s pretty legit… except that you have to do fn L to get an apostrophe, but after you do it a few times you kinda get used to it. So… okay. I’m gunna set up the tiny snake in his new enclosure today, which should be cool. He has definitely outgrown his little hatchling tub, so hopefully he will like the new setup. Also, I bought a set of 10 picture pendant necklace making kit things, and I am going to use them to make snake shed pendants. They are going to look wicked cool. I can do different colors for the background or just neutral style, we’ll see. Either way it should be pretty cool, I can do belly scales or top scales or head scales even, just depending on what looks cool. I’m pretty excited. If you guys want one hit me up. I’ll be selling ’em pretty reasonable price style. Okay, time for me to peace out and do some stuff and things and whatever. I feel horrible like wicked bad style in my body…. but whatever. peace.
I don’t even know man. I don’t even fucking know. Like fuck man. I’ve only got so much positivity and it’s not a lot. It’s not enough to survive such heavy onslaughts . Just try to be helpful but like… Yeah. It’s fucking rough. Not so easy to shake off. Try to lend strength by example, feel my inner fire glow. I don’t even know what I’m saying. Sick of reading sappy bullshit stories. Sick of seeing gross shit on my dash all the time. Feel like I should be bleeding but I’m not. Not yet anyway. I really need some work now okay? You guys just keep saying it’s delayed? I could really use some work now ok? At least I worked on myself today. Some sore abs and arms and good, yes, hurt, yes. It’s not so bad I guess. I’ll do what I can to make the weekend as nice and restful as possible. Dare I say enjoyable? I’ll do what I can. I’ll do whatever I can. It might not be enough but I’ll do what I can.
Haha man, what even am I? I have no idea. Clinically depressed almost certainly… But not in the mood to get put on pills about it. Weak and wanton. I had a bunch of dreams about being in grad school and weird things were happening and there was a giant bear??? Or something?? And it was kinky sort of somehow. Not the bear… The bear wasn’t kinky. The general undertone of the dream was, but I can’t remember exactly how… Only that I woke with that unmistakable feeling. Anyway, I don’t even know if grad school is really what I want out of life at all… But it’s something, you know? I’m not thrilled af about it, but I think it could be good for me, and I do really hope I get accepted. I got an official “your application was received and is under review” letter in the mail today. So that’s cool. I scored a pair of tickets to see one of my all time life heroes in March. I’m very psyched about that. It sold out in like 30 minutes, it’s amazing I got tickets. I’m going with my little brother, he was super psyched as well. I don’t feel like saying any more about it right now. Why can’t I fucking muster up the will power to do the rowing machine every day? Like it lives right there in my fucking house, there’s no excuse. You know what I’m really passionate about? Snakes. Fucking snakes. Ball pythons in particular but all snakes in general. My fantasy future is to run a top of the line breeding facility with the highest possible quality of care for the animals. And to have part of my facility be a non-profit reptile rescue where I take in reptiles in need and get them the medical care they need and find them good homes. Oh, and in this fantasy I also do community outreach programs that help people learn about reptiles and I do little seminars about proper care and housing. Also, all of the snakes’ shed skin would be used to make cool jewelry and trinkets and stuff that I would sell to support the rescue. As you can tell I’ve thought about it a lot. Lmao. But it’s hyper unrealistic for a ton of different reasons. But I like thinking about it, and I love snakes. I don’t know why, I just do. I love them. I’m gonna go watch some egg cutting videos on YouTube and then go to sleep.
For a quick gone moment I recalled
the feeling of my raw
from before I marinated it
In chemical baths
and turned on the fire
The full wide heart
that took and held
The moth wing heart
that beat and bent
The starling heart
That swoops and rends
I turned my grad school application in on time, despite a number of setbacks. I lost two poems in a tragic saving failure, and one of them I couldn’t put back quite right… Which drives me absolutely up the wall with rage if i think about it for too long so I’m not gonna do that. Anyway, after dealing with that, the internet died. I was watching my parents house and I tried everything to fix it and nothing worked. I even talked to tech support for like an hour, as they told me to do all the things I had already tried and finally said they would have to send someone out to fix the lines. So I went to fucking Starbucks, and ordered a Grande ice coffee with one splenda and room for cream. I sat at a tall tall table and opened up my laptop and pored over my application one last time. I made tiny corrections to my writing samples, trying my best to ignore the din of other people talking and working. Trying my best to quiet the little panic beast inside of me, screaming about how i wasn’t good enough. I sipped coffee, and took deep breaths, and paid the non-refundable $50 application fee… and clicked submit. Not exactly how I wanted that personal… potentially life changing moment to go down… But there you have it. I got it done.
My letter of intent is finished, and fierce, and filled with false confidence that sounds super real. A dash of humor, a pinch of emotion, a heaping teaspoon of self realization, and just a tiny sprinkle of arrogance for spice. It’s ready. I just need to address it. My assistanceship letter is ready too, as is my expository writing sample. That just leaves the creative writing sample and that’s almost done. If I could manifest two or three more poems the way I did today, that would be ideal. They were good, too. Short and sparse and every word chosen for a reason, dripping with meaning. My favorite style. If I’m sleep in 9 minutes I can get 6 hours sleep. That would be nice.
Welp, it seems that as far as my grad school app is concerned, I’ve officially reached that magical point where I’m just like… fuck it. get it done. Whatever it is it is. fuck it. just get it done. Which is where some of my best work comes from for some reason… so that’s nice. I feel so low on confidence and I just don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t want to fucking look at my own writing anymore, god. I just don’t want to look at it. But it’ll be over soon. soon soon. I can do it, I know I can. I just gotta fucking do it. Get my shit together. get it all together. Put it in a backpack. All my shit, so it’s together. And if I gotta take it somewhere, then take it somewhere, you know? take it to the shit store and sell it, or put it in a shit museum. I don’t care what I do, I just gotta get it together. Get my shit together.
This whole process of applying to grad school has got me fucked up. Honestly, like real fucked up. I hate writing about myself and trying to make myself out to be a good, promising candidate. exaggerating and weaving together the story of my post college life in a way that makes me seem like grad school material. And I fucking hate going through my writing to find a writing sample. Like it seems so fucking pretentious and amateurish and I hate looking at it honestly, I can’t even tell if it’s good. I need to find a copy of that stupid little magazine that published a couple of my poems. I know my parents have a copy if I can’t find mine. I just want to be fucking done, I just want to have the stupid thing submitted already, but I can’t stop procrastinating because I hate how doing it feels so it’s taking me forever. Like questioning all my life choices and shit like do I even really wanna go back? But then I’m like… so what? You know? I mean I might not even get in, which would fucking suck, but assuming I do get in, the semester doesn’t even start until august, which is like 8 more months. So like… if by then I change my mind or whatever, then fine. But if I don’t get this shit turned in by the 15th then I miss the opportunity and it won’t come around again for another year. SO yeah, I’m gunna fucking do it. I’m guna finish writing this goddamn letter, and then I’m going to write another goddamn letter, and then I’m going to put these poems together and edit them as I see fit and then I’m going to choose my best academic paper and edit it if necessary and then I’m going to pay the ridiculous $50 application fee, and then I’m going to submit it. And this is going to happen by Sunday.
Everything is hard and plodding. Feeling stuck just trying to get along, get my work done. The highlight of my day was the cold night walk I took with my little brother. We walk and talk and catch up about our lives and it is so easy. We breathe cold air and go through campus and stop when the little dog wants to pee. Beautiful winter night beautiful winter sights.