rayofmemory's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ::summer summer summer:: Song of the Moment: "Summer Nights" ~ John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John. I've been having trouble writing lately. I get an idea for a poem and write it down, but all it becomes is that one line. I have so many one lines saved all over this computer. Some are a couple of lines, but no more than that. I haven't had the energy to write. The patience. The time. The inspiration. I've written two poems in the past week and they're both just not good enough. I never questioned my poetry until recently. I've always written what I felt with vagueness and metaphor but lately I've been mangling. Destroying. I suddenly don't want to give way and I have no idea why. I've become uncomfortable again. Around everyone. I hesitate a lot. I question and second guess. I don't know what triggered it, but it's effected everything lately. I noticed that I make goals when I'm happy or content and then give up when I dip back down into my depression. A good of amount of people with depression do the same. 'I'm content. I'm happy. Everything is fine. But here's what I want to do to make it better.' Then I dip back down and fuck it all. I'm too drained, too tired, too unhappy to move, eat or make conversation. Fuck it all. That is where I tend to be lately and I'm not sure why. Or sometimes it's slightly the opposite. I become an attention hog. Not in big groups but sometimes with friends. I start to adopt this clingy, love me, love me, love me attitude. I become a puppy dog. I know it's bad when it starts to annoy me. Sickening. I'll talk and talk and talk endlessly about nothing for fear of slipping a little bit of something out of my mouth. And I eat and eat, mostly out of boredom or sadness, not actually when I'm hungry. I should be at least be content. I have no reason to be unhappy, right? Oh well. Eventually. I had a decent year, for all the shit that has happened. I think I took it pretty damn well. But I was so busy, busy busy busy, with everything else that I didn't have time to dwell on it. I didn't have time to be unhappy. I had to be a rock, or at least attempt to be a rock for everyone else. I have to be there for everyone else. But is there anyone here for me anymore? Sometimes I think it's an illusion. Happiness. And I'm very well aware that a person cannot be happy all the time. I know. But even to be happy for a whole day, would be like being happy for an eternity for me. At least, that's how I feel. And my feelings seem to play a pretty big role in my life. I've never considered myself a very political person. I've always thought of myself as a very personal person. Feelings. 'So tell me, how does that make you FEEL?' Meg Ryan said in You've Got Mail, "Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal." And I completely agree with that. I think I can touch or have more of an impact on a person by sharing my memories, feelings, my hopes, dreams and ideas. I can hit a person harder with my words than with my fists. I've always believed that. *ahem* That was slightly off topic. But yeah. My summer in a nutshell. 'How did I get in this nutshell?' I'm suddenly very exhausted. 1:34 a.m. - 2003-06-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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