i have all these emotions, these ideas, this overwhelming reality... and i can't write.
i sit down to try, to compose a poem or a song or just a string of thoughts, and i come up empty. usually when i'm drenched in emotion, i spill out in words.
i haven't written a poem in weeks. i've figured out music to go behind songs i wrote ages ago, but i haven't written anything new. i've been churning out scenes for my scriptwriting class, but that isn't expressive in any real way. i suppose it really only bothers me in principal - i like when i create things, i tend to feel strange when i don't.
i think, really, it's due to the fact that i'm not burying anything. i'm vocalizing the emotions i have, expressing them in ways clear enough that i don't need the intricasies of a poem.
or maybe i'm just happy, and happiness makes for bad poetry. :: 18:07
(speak)
which makes me think - i consider myself a relatively balanced, emotionally healthy person. i think i have a good idea of who i am, and, more importantly, a good acceptance of who i am - mentally, spiritually and physically. i know that i'm not in my best shape, but i quite honestly like how i look and, more importantly, i feel healthy.
but, regardless, being made to sit and answer interminable questions about how i feel about food, how i feel about how i look, how i feel about how i feel about food and how i look... made me slightly paraniod. i definitely ate less and more carefully for the few days following each visit.
and that really irks me. i hate the idea that my perception of myself was so easily shaken, that i succumbed so easily to the pressures of the american ideal.
but. i'm now going to go be taught how to sing by my sweet and ever-so patient someone.
and i'm still beautiful.
so there. :: 22:02
(speak)
...
there is nothing in the world like having someone to say goodmorning to. :: 16:22
(speak)
...
:: february 19, 2002 ::
a quote i've always liked, sparked in my memory by peter's entry today: "i gave my life to become the person i am right now. was it worth it?" :: 15:52
(speak)
"i can see you staring at the sky, undressing the moonlight with your eyes"
woke up angry today.
i don't know why, there's no reason for it, nobody and nothing that i'm angry at.
just angry. just feeling bottledup and antsy and like lashing out.
i'm ridiculously nervous about auditions. my whole life i've been told i can't sing. for a long time most of my friends wouldn't let me - now i tend to do it anyway and endure the grimaces.
but i've always distinctly avoided any situation in which i would have to sing alone in front of an audience larger than maybe two of my best friends.
i think the problem is that singing is always something i've wanted to be able to do, something that i've vaguely hoped i would one day suddenly be good at... and this, auditioning, has become like a test of that.
and i know i can't sing.
i've always hated the idea that there are things i simply can't do. i'm a definite proponent of mind over matter, and for most aspects of my life, my will alone is strong enough to accomplish what i want.
i remember being shocked the first time i couldn't do another rep when i was weight lifting. shocked, that i was simply incapable of raising that bar and those weights one more time, and no amount of determination was going to make me.
almost as shocked as i am every time i discover that i can't dictate to myself what i feel, every time i fall in love when i didn't mean to.
:: 11:08
(speak)
...
i'm still playing with the page, obviously, so there'll be new links popping up and maybe disappearing, and format changes as my whim dictates.
so there. :: 01:45
(speak)
...
:: february 18, 2002 ::
::hyperventilate::
auditions are tomorrow
auditions
are
tomorrow
tomorrow
!
sometimes i feel like the entirety of language is onomatopoetic.
words that just seem to so perfectly fit what they mean...
stumble. seep. forest. echo.
i suppose it's just a lifetime of being immersed in the language. the collection of symbols that create the word "nothing" have always stood for emptyness and lack of substance, and so that collection of symbols comes to mean those things, starts to be those things...
the human brain needs to understand. we are built, neurally, to believe in magic and supernatural things, because the brain needs to make order out of the chaos of the world. we correlate information, group it, name it, even when a real connection isn't there.
name it. we think verbally more often than not, tend to be more comfortable when we can articulate our thoughts to ourselves. language is a vital and integral part of the human thought process, of human existance.
"nothing" comes to mean emptyness and lack of substance; but, even more and more amazingly, emptyness and lack of substance come to mean "nothing." the relationship is reversed... the label is an intrinsic part of the emotion, the experience, the reality of all those things that are are contained within it.
the eskimos, as everyone knows, have their some-dozen number of words for "snow." could they distinguish between those types of snow before they had the words for them? the danes have a word - hygge - which has no translation to english. the best i've heard is "the warm fuzzy feeling you get when spending time with friends." do we experience less of that emotion, since we don't have the word to explain it? comfort isn't the same, joy is closer... ever read stranger in a strange land? i think that's the book, at least... one culture (ours) is waging war on another, alien culture, and they don't understand because they have no word for war or hatred. no translation, no comprehension.
it's a chicken-egg problem, i suppose. can you have hatred before you have the word for it? of course. but can you understand hatred, can you know that you're feeling it?
i think the realization of self is dependent on language, on being able to make the subtle chaos of the world concrete by way of articulation.
but then, there are those moments when you know that words will never be enough to encompass the depth of what you feel, when the most eloquent you can be is smiling. :: 18:04
(speak)
...
three day weekend. rock.
and, because we have no more university service learning whatever class, i have nothing on tuesday.
four day weekend.
rock.
unfortunately, i have nothing to say that will turn into words right now, so i have no good way to make up for missing a day (!), and i apologize for all of you who were i'm sure deeply disappointed.
i'll do better next time, i promise.
turn the phone off, even, and devote my whole attention. :: 15:40
(speak)
