Recurring Thought

I just had this moment, staring at my computer. I felt completely and utterly overwhelmed by all of the things which I have to do and those that I want to do and how I am completely incapable of completing a book-sized project, at least a good one, anyone can write 160 pages of crap, but I want it to be wonderful. It's not going to be wonderful. I don't have a job for the summer/rest of my life, but I don't want one. I want to travel and I hope I don't prevent myself from doing so. I have this huge fear of holding myself back, and that fear of doing it itself, holds me back. I feel completely disenchanted and immobile in my writing and creativity and life right now because of busy work from other classes. I shouldn't have to fill my time with a certain amount of credits while trying to write a book that is required for me to graduate! How rude.

So in doing all this thinking and being immobilized by myself in my creative circle, I thought (actually I said it out loud because no one's here to think I'm crazy for talking to myself) "you don't have time to freak out" and it hit me - I had a dream about saying that about a character. Which, of course, led me to think that I am a character, this life is the story. Blah blah blah, but I am a character in one of my stories, kind of, but it's not really me, it's the me that I'm afraid to be I think, but she's a much scarier me anyway, not a lively happy me, but a dark and edgy me. I'm not even sure what I'm talking about anymore. The point is, I have this recurring thought of not being able to freak out because of a time limit, my characters not having enough time to freak out because I don't have enough pages. I don't have enough time to get things done because as a human being, I require sleep. All I do is read, stare at my computer, and go to work and class, I do not do anything for myself anymore. Yesterday I went running. I hate running. I despise running. But I did it for some reason unknown to me and I did feel good, I felt better, but it's not creative. Or is running creative? Could it be? I wrote in my journal once, after a professor told me he hated personification of inanimate objects: "Could a tree be seductive or curvy if I want it to be?" Why couldn't a tree be seductive, and is that personification? The tree isn't talking, it's just seducing.

I could drive myself crazy with my thoughts.

Just a minute ago when I said that out loud to myself, "you don't have time to freak out," I began to realize why writers, artists, tend to go crazy. There's so much to be done, your story is never told, or never told properly and how can one be satisfied if it is out just that it is out? It has to be the right way.

I think that's why I've really been into performing my work lately, there isn't much of a venue for this for short story writers though. Maybe I'll make one. Yes, that's right Laura, take one more thing on, you don't have enough on your plate as it is! Create a venue!

Ah to be five years old again and laying in my bed, tracing the outline of the brown and blue flowers on the wallpaper in my bedroom, day-dreaming about how one day I'll be great. When will that day come? Can I just have that wallpaper back, please?