Watching: Robot Chicken
Listening to: Robot Chicken
So, I'm off work now, eating popcorn and once again reviewing my life as I remember it. There's been a lot of changes over the last few years. I mean, even in the last five years there's been so much. In the scheme of things that's such a small span of time, but right now, it's been a critical portion of my life.
This was brought on by my lag in writing and my talking to my mother. Some things, like creative slumps, don't need to be mixed with emotions. My mom was telling me she was proud of me, but that if she'd had to change anything about me, it would have been to make me cuddlier as a child, especially towards her. I don't remember being particularly un-cuddly, but it made me realize that I've never been into being coddled, really. Snuggling? I need my space most of the time.
This is one of the reasons I have a hard time in intimate relationships. There are very, very few people I'm comfortable snuggling up to. In fact, I can't name any right now, except maybe one, and my awkwardness sees to that never happening. Blah. Anyways.
So, I've been in a real slump with my writing, which sucks it hardcore, because I'm trying to rewrite my novel and keep up with my online stories. I'd also appreciate the drive to work on Silver Lined Night again. This is sort of a catch-22 for me. My characters are like people I know, I mean, I know everything about them. When I'm in a tricky spot, sometimes I think 'How would (insert character) handle this?'. The more I fixate, however, on not being able to sense them out, the more I can't get in touch with my characters. It's actually really hard on me, because I've been working on these stories for years.
Seeing them going nowhere, completely stagnate, is like watching a child with bundles of potential smoking pot and play video games all day instead of doing homework. You know if they only were pushed a little they could go anywhere.
Of course, I've been doubting myself a lot lately too. That has a lot to do with all of this. Fan fiction is easy enough to write, it's pretty stable. The characters are well defined, anyone with experience knows how to keep a character as themselves. Plot lines are manageable. It's great. You're basically handed a template half filled in when you start.
Starting from scratch is horribly intimidating suddenly. It never used to be that way. I love writing. These stories have been mine to tell for nearly a decade now. I know the ins and outs as well as I know life. Which is the problem. Holy crap. INSIGHT. I just realized this always happens when I lose track of where my life is going, when I lose that hope that I'm going to do something worthwhile. I'm questioning a lot about what I'm going to do after December, when I'm supposed to graduate.
Wow. I think I just had a breakthrough.
How am I supposed to convince myself the direction of my characters' lives is right when I don't feel comfortable in my own shoes? I cannot control a world of my making if I can't wade through the one I live in.
I feel better now.
Anyways, new store manager at work, temporary for now. She's about 50/50 so far on my ratings of 'has to go'. Tolerable at the moment, so, we'll see how this goes.
Oh, so, President Obama averted a shutdown by signing a two week appropriation of funds into effect on Wednesday. So, basically, another two week extension on the pissing contest in congress. I have two family members (immediate) who can't afford for these elected officials to keep screwing around. Just vote already, damn. Better yet, poll the American public and we'll tell you what we think.
This has been one long, uninformative blog about my own petty crap. Oh well. Congrats if you made it all the way through.
Also, if I have consistent readers, please show support to my friend Richelle in her time of need. No donations or anything, just kind words for her turmoil.
Thanks for coming,