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[Subject Eradicated For No Good Reason]
Apr. 12th, 2006 10:53 pmI don't know what's wrong with me.
I don't want to read. I can't write. My mind seems incapable of coming up with other things to entertain me. Things I generally find enjoyable, such as commenting, writing blog entries, and similar internet-related things, feel almost chore-like. All day it's been as if something isn't quite working properly. I've been tired too (is my mother's pregnancy exhaustion contagious?), and not-quite-irritable--a little too tired to be irritable. I watched LOST and read a delightful book on folklore today, and was slightly disappointed by both. It wasn't the material itself that was disappointing me. I don't know what was. Something intangible, maybe; some sense that even though I should enjoying myself, I wasn't.
Have I also mentioned that the ending of The Wise and the Lovely is reeking massively? Remus, of all people, has taken it in his head to be melodramatic, not to mention he can't speak without sentance fragments. He needs a better motivation, or a less cheesy way to say, "Yeah, I need you, even though it took me a bloody year to figure it out, so can we be happy and stuff now?" I've struggled with it so much that I don't even want to write anymore, especially when my last go at an ending resulted in a several-paragraph Sirius memory, which I rather like, but...blimey, it's getting too long. It needs to come full circle and END.
(I have the most pathetic angst. Making geeky punctuation icons helped, somewhat, until I discovered that my stupid program muddled up the red text when I saved, as usual, and now it looks like a hack-job by some kid with MS Paint. Sometimes, PhotoStudio isn't much worse, and GIMP's text is just BLOODY EVIL AND HATES ME. *curls up in a corner and cries*)
At least I seem to have regained enough clarity of mind to get my sense of humour back. Some of it, anyway. BAH.
I don't want to read. I can't write. My mind seems incapable of coming up with other things to entertain me. Things I generally find enjoyable, such as commenting, writing blog entries, and similar internet-related things, feel almost chore-like. All day it's been as if something isn't quite working properly. I've been tired too (is my mother's pregnancy exhaustion contagious?), and not-quite-irritable--a little too tired to be irritable. I watched LOST and read a delightful book on folklore today, and was slightly disappointed by both. It wasn't the material itself that was disappointing me. I don't know what was. Something intangible, maybe; some sense that even though I should enjoying myself, I wasn't.
Have I also mentioned that the ending of The Wise and the Lovely is reeking massively? Remus, of all people, has taken it in his head to be melodramatic, not to mention he can't speak without sentance fragments. He needs a better motivation, or a less cheesy way to say, "Yeah, I need you, even though it took me a bloody year to figure it out, so can we be happy and stuff now?" I've struggled with it so much that I don't even want to write anymore, especially when my last go at an ending resulted in a several-paragraph Sirius memory, which I rather like, but...blimey, it's getting too long. It needs to come full circle and END.
(I have the most pathetic angst. Making geeky punctuation icons helped, somewhat, until I discovered that my stupid program muddled up the red text when I saved, as usual, and now it looks like a hack-job by some kid with MS Paint. Sometimes, PhotoStudio isn't much worse, and GIMP's text is just BLOODY EVIL AND HATES ME. *curls up in a corner and cries*)
At least I seem to have regained enough clarity of mind to get my sense of humour back. Some of it, anyway. BAH.
