Wednesday, February 20, 2008
everything's becoming such a drag.i could swear life is in black and white and not a million shades of gray.
i havent got the ability to write, so what right do i have to critically analyse someone else's work?
it's absurd.
i could sit you down and explain line by line what every word in my ekphrastic response meant; including all the attatched connotations/double meanings and what not;
but i simply cant seem to be able to put them down on paper.
it's RESTRICTIVE and its CRAMMING MY STYLE; because i have to do it in this CERTAIN format that is required in school; that has been set by someone else,whose name i do not know, who died eons ago. whats wrong with writing my 'introduction' in the 4th paragraph? can't i start with my 3rd paragraph? oh no, its too confusing; but well im sorry that im just LIKE THAT. screwed up if you must; but im sorry my brain doesnt work in that step-by-step manner like the common laypeople so THERE.
this is god-awful.
im just being a whiny brat so bare with me because i think i deserve to be a whiny brat today because you have NO idea what its like to feel so upset with this world because everything is so incredibly disappointing and DULL, that makes you feel like shaking every person you see on the street and screaming " WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!",
and therefore i think that in essence, the problem lies with ME.
i have absolutely no inspiration whatsoever to analyse my OWN poem; (which is so completely idiotic; why do i have to analyse something i wrote?)
i just feel like sitting down, taking a calendar for the next ten years and plotting out my life and all the steps i'd take. and then tear it all up and throw it in the bin because i know i'll never follow it.
oh god, someone SAVE ME.
after so much of this useless banter im still resigning to my fate and going off to write the analysis for my VERY OWN POEM which i have YET TO TITLE because i think it is shitty and cliched and exaggerated and dramatised and awful i feel embarassed to even NAME IT.its goose-bump inducing; at least to me.
this always happens when i have to hand in my own pieces.
i like to keep them to myself.
im very very exclusive. ha. ha.
no actually im just afraid of embarassment.
i shant dawdle here any longer because its called procrastinating and procrastinating is for the weak minded, so there, goodbye.