seidskratti: Let's make better mistakes tomorrow. (Better Mistakes)
So I met a girl that I kinda used to know ages ago, though we really drifted apart (understatement), and she's really helping me get my shit together and believe that I might actually still have a future. Or maybe it's just approaching mania again. I'm not sure.

I think a lot of my problem is just that I try to avoid everything that's difficult to deal with, even when those difficult-to-deal-with things are a part of me. Hopefully I can live less in denial of who I am, even if I'm not open about it to others.

On a sorta-unrelated note, I'm applying to the local community college for fall. Hopefully this time I'll get my crap together and go to school instead of running away. It also means somehow finding a car and getting my license before August. This partially depends on my parents, but my mom's promised me a car, since they gave my sister one when she was a teenager... and because my mom's gotten thousands of dollars in child support for me, even when I wasn't living with them, and she feels sorta guilty about that, so is willing to shell out money for a car (and cheap tuition). Which is, I suppose, reason to stay. If I get a car, and am going to school and can find a doctor and a job, then I think I could actually survive here. :P Trying to make steps towards all of those, if I can get over my damned pessimism and social anxiety. We shall see.

Right. Dumped the surface of my brainpool into cyberspace for the random anonymous hordes. Now, I'm going to bed.
seidskratti: I can see beauty where others see ugliness. That either makes me an artist, or a person of very poor taste. --Anonymous (Beauty)
A little depressed, very introspective. I feel a little like some of these thoughts are something I should type up for others' reference, especially if I'm going to try and get a shrink to help me figure myself out. I don't have the clarity of thought to put it into nice words and sentences and paragraphs. Strange brain I have, or so it seems to me. Perhaps I just look at it funny.

Will try to make some kind of actual post on the subject. Sorry I've been so socially absent, lately, just haven't really felt like smalltalk or anything. I never really do, but it's worse right now.

Just been doing chores and playing FFVI, screwing around at the end of the game. I don't want to go get skills for Gau and Strago, even though I used Gau a lot in the World of Balance... I got distracted and read a bit of dialog from the end that isn't in the shitty SNES translation I'm playing, and it sparks all sorts of slashy Shadow ideas that really shouldn't exist. I am not a fanfic writer. I am not a fanfic writer. I will repeat that until they go away.

On that note, I'm going to try some sleep. I hear it's good for you.
seidskratti: Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart. (Snowy)
On a related note, here's some other super-short, word-limited stories. Was a fun little challenge while procrastinating on other things:

1. Defenestration.
2. Running scared.
3. Lost: one cause.
4. Dead love; alchemical resurrection.
5. Underneath, it wasn't a mask.
6. Death was easy; they demanded life.
7. I left the body on his doorstep.
8. She gave him the choice: "Wizardry or me."
9. When he finally looked outside, it was raining ashes.
10. In the end, it really was all just a dream.

Nine is my favorite story, and also, perhaps coincidentally, my favorite number. Man, I'm writing dark and bittersweet stuff lately. No wonder I don't want to work on Sanctuary, even if it is post-apocalyptic. It's also genuinely fluffy. Which is probably why people liked it. But I have to totally rewrite the first and last scenes, I'm guessing. The first probably needs it more than the last.

Inevitably, when I set my Pidgin status to "Writing" I get distracted and do other things. Sometimes for hours. Even when I've got my document open and everything all arranged and I know I'm going to start writing right now. This procrastination is, as always, a manifestation of my fear of writing--or rather, my fear of being criticized, which comes from my big insecurity over being perceived as "wrong" in some way. Which comes from being right most of the time, I suppose, though it was very much heightened by a certain event when I was eighteen when I was told I was wrong about something very deep and dear to me.

1581 words on the Snow Queen story today. I anticipate a thoroughly awful first draft. But I keep telling myself that awful drafts or even awful finished pieces of absolute terrible drivel are better than unfinished masterpieces. I just have to keep slogging away, especially when it gets hard.

My mother is trying to tell me the reason that I'm sleeping poorly is that the way my (makeshift) bed is situated, my head is pointing north and that I should try sleeping at the other end. Because feng shui says so. I'm tempted to try it.

And on a last random but disturbing note, Pidgin crashes the first time I try to tell anyone about the AI in Zak's story. It's really fucking creepy. Once, it did it 3 times in a row. Is it some string of characters that I end up using that somehow breaks the program? Am I typing too fast? I have no idea. Thinking about putting some of my Zakai writings online. Don't know. Weird brain I have.

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