is it any surprise...

i've basically banished myself off the face of the internet (except for myspace..quick-visit/low-commitment internet is still allowed) because i have so much homework to get done in the next few weeks...oooh i miss people and feelings that aren't dread or overwhelmedness or exhaustion. i mean, there's definitely inspiration in all of this but it is in my heart and the other feelings are sitting on my chest. it's hard to breathe when i'm awake.

yesterday morning i was going to read a textbook before i went out to my grad interview and independent study meeting. but textbooks and course notes are all i've been doing day and night for the past 2 weeks, so i decided instead to curl up in my favorite old blankie from my grandma's house when i was little and watch Little Women. i just love that story so much and a story is like nutrients to me in malnourished times. i admire a story with so many parts and characters who make you feel so agonized and so joyful at the same time. i'm finding lately that's how i feel all the time when i notice i still have feelings...this interesting agony fused with happiness. isn't that strange how you can feel so good about feeling so bad. i'm not sure it's normal. but it's nice. i guess it's maybe peace. or hope. it's something alright.

i love the main character in the story though. her name is jo. maybe i love her because i relate to her and understand her. she writes stories and she is ridiculous and restless and the thing she needs the most is the thing she tries the hardest to get away from. i know for a fact that is what i do. i'm becoming acutely aware of it. it makes no sense! how can a person be always avoiding or distancing themself from the thing they know they need and even probably want? most of my best friends are the kind of people who have this really logical series of steps where they 1. want something and 2. go get it. none of them understand me and they think i'm an idiot. i think i agree with them.

i started writing this story a week and a half ago that i was really in love with but i had to stop partway through because i didn't have time for it and had to read textbooks...and it's haunting me. and a friend who is dreaming up a really creative film just asked me if i would adapt one of poe's short stories into a screenplay...but i can't yet..and it's really painful. everything i am doing right now is waiting. i'm really good at waiting. but when everything you do is waiting, it feels like wearing shoes that don't fit. i know i've used that analogy before and how uncreative of me, but it's really just the thing it feels like.

yesterday i had my grad interview scheduled and i spent the whole day and drive trying to think of answers to questions they would ask me and the only thing i could think of that i would really mean if i said it was "fuck!" and that's crude but i'm not sorry, because it's the only answer to any question i ask myself these days that i can come up with! there's something awfully wrong about that! my interview got cancelled anyways, so just as well i'm sure. maybe i will think of better answers in the next couple weeks. or maybe by then my answer will just be falling apart and crying. hard to say.

there's one wonderful thing.
i'm absolutely aching for it, and it's been the longest wait yet. 5 years. and i finally get to let copeland break my heart in person.