I’ve been feeling pretty decent overall for the past couple weeks, focused and kinda sorta content, in my way. But I’m suddenly feeling less calm and confident, less sure and focused, more stressed, depressed, jealous, irritated and just fucking angry. Probably hormones are involved but it’s also just … feelings. This assignment is stressing me the fuck out, which isn’t helping anything. Not knowing whether or not I have a tour tomorrow night is also not fucking useful. I want time, and affection, and to have this assignment finished. My bro is going to Mexico tomorrow, for like three days, for his best friend’s wedding. Hopefully he will have a chill, fun time. We hung out with our parents for a little while yesterday, running errands and moving furniture and it was nice. My brain is starting to cook on this assignment, some ideas are starting to form. As I’ve told myself again and again, I need to focus on controlling what I can control. I need to focus on myself, and my goals. I need to make decisions that will further those goals. That is what I need to focus my mind on, instead of obsessing about things that aren’t in my hands. Right now, I need to make my brain focus on this particular task. I need to craft three possible ideas, and pick my favorite, and seal my fate. I applied for graduation. Now I just have to do the work. Peace.
I just left my brother’s apartment for probably the last time ever. Like… ever. I helped him finish cleaning it out and making it nice, and he has his walk-through tomorrow, to see if he gets his security deposit back, and then that’s it. I gave him his spare key back so he could give it to them. We mopped ourselves out, and left. (we also took advantage of the amazing, empty apartment acoustics to loudly and dramatically sing “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” in various musical genres)
A lot of fun, creative, hilarious, exciting, interesting, and melancholy things happened there. I am melancholy about his leaving, strangely sentimental. But it’s good. It’s really, really good. It’s time. Briefly, I find myself nearly overwhelmed with a feeling of excitement at the thought of getting a house. The thought of having a real kitchen to cook in, a real space to build a life. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, and I get scared, to let myself feel that level of happiness. It’s complicated. It’s complicated. It’s complicated.
I need to go to bed. I need to either find or figure out how to fucking get a new registration for my car, because that shit expires on Friday, and tomorrow is Tuesday. That’s definitely a stressful thought upon my brain.
I also have to come up with 3 possible dissertation topics by that day, and finish an annoying exercise for my other class, and apply for graduation. No word yet about whether or not I have to go to fucking Kansas to take my comprehensive exam. I e-mailed my professor about it again just now because she never got back to me the first time. Sooooooooo…….. we’ll see! Peace.
The creative writing workshop class that I’m taking is making me feel kinda glad that I didn’t get into the CW masters’ program that I applied for. I forgot how bougie and pretentious it is. THIS specific type of writing is LITERARY, and if you don’t write stuff that falls between these confines than your writing is IRRELEVANT. And those confines are so fucking narrow, and so fucking boring. That’s why I made my specialization poetry in undergrad, because at least you could play around with words there, you could experiment with form and formlessness and create meaning from unexpected images. Like if I had to try and write?? one more?? “Literary” short story?? A boring motherfucking depressing ass slice of life? Hard pass bro. And workshopping the boring, motherfucking depressing ass slice of life stories of my classmates?? Boy! Sorry to hear that you are all unfulfilled in your relationships, and seeking meaning through self-destructive outlets, and that your nicotine stained fingers tremble, as you go to pull the last cigarette from your crumpled pack, swearing, this time, it’s really your last one, and you smoke it as you drive to a young, beautiful woman’s house, and you cheat on your wife with her, and you feel guilty about it, and you blame the young woman for being too irresistible, because she smiled at you when you spoke to her in the grocery store, and you resent her, for telling you your breath tastes like cigarettes, because that’s the same thing your wife always says, and you don’t want to think about your wife while you’re in bed with this hot young mistake, so you put on your pants, and leave without saying another word to her, and you swing by the gas station on your way home to your wife and buy another pack of cigarettes. Like… Sorry to hear about that bro. Sorry to read a billion fucking “literary” stories that follow this exact same bullshit plot, or an incredibly similar bullshit plot. Boo fucking hoo, you’re a sad in-denial misogynist, and your self-insert character is also a sad, in-denial misogynist? what a coincidence! What a fascinating fucking development! Truly, a brilliant piece of literature.
Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk about how college creative writing classes actually really stifle creativity and create a culture that mass produces mediocre fucking depressing content that the creators somehow think is edgy, original, and insightful!
I got my new phone today. It’s my b-day present, and I got it activated today. It’s really not much different from my old one at all, but it doesn’t feel like it’s mine yet, if that makes sense. It feels foreign in my hands, not quite right. I feel, suddenly, weirdly attached to my old one. But, I will get over it soon, I’m sure. I haven’t even completely finished setting it up yet. I have all of the primary functions in place, but there are still a lot of secondary functions that I have to get set up. It’s currently at 3% battery, and I’m waiting for it to die so I can give it a nice full charge. It’s white, and I’ve literally never had a white phone before, but I actually think it looks pretty sick. (still, ima get a case for it… cuz… ya know. And also a case might make it feel more like it’s really mine, cuz I always have a case on.)
Still haven’t found out wtf is up with my comprehensive exam, meaning how the fuck and where the fuck I’m supposed to take it. It’s probably best to wait ’till Monday to e-mail my professor about it again?? Idk. Also need to apply for graduation real fast, and for honors society. Like… can’t forget to do those things, or I’ll be fucked. (also have to come up w/ 3 possible topics for my dissertation by next Friday, which I’m a lil nervous about) Alright, it’s getting hella late, I’m guna head up to bed. Peace.
Tomorrow (technically today right now) is the first day of my final semester of grad school. That’s honestly crazy to me, it sort of feels like I barely even started?? But also like it’s been a while, I guess. I don’t even know. I found out that my dissertation only has to be like 36 pages long, which is less terrible than I was afraid it would be. I’ve written more than that in the space of a week. Remember when I had a 25 page paper and a 15 page paper and a 12 page paper all due in the same week? Yeah. So I’m sorta not suuuper worried about that any more. I do have to come up with three potential topic ideas by the 31st, which isn’t a ton of time, soooo we’ll see about all that. I need to figure out what’s up with the comprehensive exam, ASAP. A friend of mine, someone I’ve known since highschool, is 6 months pregnant, and that’s crazy as fuck. She has … like … a whole person in there. It’s fucking wild. I have a weird array of feelings about it, but I mostly just want her and her kid to be healthy, and okay, and I want to live vicariously through the experience a little bit, because I’m wild curious. I want a house so freakin’ bad, yo. I want some personal space, a yard, and the ability to get a dog. Dang, it would be cool to get a dog. Alright, I think I’m going to go to bed for now. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings happening and really I think it would be a good call for me to just try and freakin’ sleep now. Peace.
So out of it that I forgot I had opened my phone to turn off the downstairs light, and instead came here, and then had to go back there and do that and then come back here again. Warlock is a real for real type of business that means business.
I am surrounded by love and I hope you fucking know, you better fucking know, that I don’t take it for granted. I do not fail to appreciate how fucking peerlessly fortunate it makes me. I know. With every last twitch of my harried heart, I know.
And I knew i never wanted to take someone else’s name. I knew, for certain, as a world new child, that I would never relinquish that bit of myself. But i’d never thought about how, I could give my name, in love, as a gift
a feeling of instability is what really gnaws at me. Whether it’s 100% just my perception, or… not just my perception, it gnaws, and I’m still working on ways to get the jaws to release.
It’s late, I should be in bed if I want to get enough sleep, but I’m not in bed. I’m examining the balloon of feelings inside of my chest. It inflates, at night, when I’m alone. My dad called me earlier, after I texted them to tell them I was doing a tour, to tell me that they were out looking at houses, for me. They are eager to help me achieve this goal, they want to help me, they want to be able to make it happen soon, and my feelings balloon inside my chest.
I’m just … trying. At everything, I’m trying. I want to be good (lol) To myself, as well as to those around me, as well as in general, in the sense of being a good person. I’m just … trying. At everything, I’m trying.
I feel weird and sort of directionless not doing school stuff. Also sort of guilty, like I’m not doing enough. Like I don’t deserve this time, like one little night job a couple days a week isn’t doing enough. I would feel better if I was working more on my personal projects but I haven’t been, so there’s that. I will, okay? I will. I don’t have to write it in order, I just have to write it. I have one more week, as of today, before the semester starts. I want to feel like I deserve this time, Like I earned it. Why can’t I validate myself in this way?
I have to submit my “Intention to graduate” by September 4th. I have to apply for and take the big comprehensive examination not too long after that. I don’t even know what the fuck that’s going to be… or what kind of material it’s going to cover… sooo I need to figure that out soon. I should talk to my advisor / the head of my program. (I should talk to her a lot, and form some sort of actual connection with her so I can use her as a reference)
This shit is long-winded as hell, and I don’t know if it’s useful or not but uuuhhh….. Iiiiiiii wrote it! Fuck, I should totally go to bed. It’s late as fuck. I’m gunna try to do that now. Peace.
How much of the negative shit I’m feeling is because society tells me that’s how I should feel, that this isn’t normal, it isn’t how it should work? How much of it is just truly from me? And does it fucking matter? Can I overcome feeling weird because of societal expectations? Can I change my own perspective? How much of either? And how will I know if I’ve done it? And does it fucking matter? Does it fucking matter when I’m just matter, here by accident in this configuration? Matter that loves other configurations, that has a wetwear hard drive run by chemically produced electrical impulses telling be that I should care for and protect these specific other matter configurations. Telling me I should live my life to make their lives better, but also telling me to feel jealous, conflicted, obsessed. It’s weird, I guess, is my point. None of the words I’m saying are quite right. (I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but this isn’t quite right.) I spent 2.5 hours today, in my brother’s new yard, trimming branches and raking leaves with him and our mom. Feeling, the whole time, conflicted. (What the fuck else is new you twisted up dingus?) So happy for him and so sad to have him move away. It’s literally like a 10 min drive from me, or less, but it’s not 30 feet away, and late night walks whenever we want. He has emotions about it too, I know. But I want to let him just feel excited. I’m envious, as well, and I feel like a failure in a way, that I haven’t been able to make it happen for myself, though I’m older. (But he’s always been lucky when it comes to connections, in a way that I’m not, and that’s just how it is, and I can’t begrudge him that.) So really I just threw myself into some manual labor, letting my muscles do what they’re for, in the sun and the rain both. When I left it looked nicer than it did when I arrived.