sarah HANNAH gómez
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This makes me incredibly happy.
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I have been having all these epiphanies lately, about piano, about voice, about my writing, about how I’m definitely going to Prague this summer. I want to be doing so much. So much is happening, but everytime I start to write something, I can’t finish it. I had all this inspiration for my essay for another summer program and now I don’t want to finish. I’ve wanted to journal for years, but now I don’t want to start because I feel so tired. I started writing a letter and can’t bring myself to keep writing, and I kind of want to start over, but I hate wasting paper, and plus, that makes the letter less genuine.
I now keep a list of all the things I need to write about, and I make sure I know whether it’s for a letter, journal, story, song, or what. It’s amazing how one random word can bring up the correct memory. I’m really glad my mind works that way, for the most part. It makes it easy to keep track of things. But it also makes it easy for me to be lazy, like this.
But is it really laziness? I have a test to be studying for, and I already only have seven and a half hours until I have to wake up in the morning. I have no idea how I used to get by sleeping about five hours a night. Fewer than six and a half is really just unhealthy. I suppose I could just go back to my old self and stop caring about my health.
I finally finished some playlists so that my iPod could be all set for last weekend’s mini road trip to and from College Station. So I put a new one up. It’s very fitting, because it’s finally an update of a previous playlist I made it high school, except that it’s much better. And I think the theme is very spring semester-y.
Spring break is in two weeks. If I can get my shit together for piano master class, if I can take my midterms, if I can apply to this Rutgers program, I’ll be set. I have no plans for spring break past the book festival, and I think I’ll use the time to recharge. I would love to drive myself somewhere, like Sedona, and stay at a bed and breakfast, writing and reading and maybe recording some songs, but I may have to just create a vacation habitat here in Tucson. Tour Tucson like a lonely tourist, and find new places to write. I can’t afford to leave, but I definitely need to feel like I’m somewhere different. Prague is still too far away (!).
Today I am required to be a writer to finish my Prague application, due tomorrow. I hate turning things in at last minute, especially when I haven’t worked on them, but that’s what I will have to do today because in order to go to Prague and be a writer again, I have to write today. My journal is full of tens of pages bemoaning the fact that it’s all I write in. Is it writer’s block or egocentrism?
It’s funny; lately I wish that I blogged more like the way I used to write fiction, the way other people blog. Honestly, I think for a lot of people it’s just a more pretentious, pseudo-creative way to blog, but I also like the way it reads. But when I’m talking about myself, or when I’m trying to be intelligent and journalistic, criticizing some publishing issue or something, I have to be more coherent than that. But shouldn’t I know my characters coherently as well? Why do my characters see the world more artistically than I do?
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the walls around us
i accidentally secretly watched the entire twilight saga
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