4.7.04
This is the sound inside my head:
White noise.
Had I anything to write about, I think I could still do it. But for some reason, I won't. A disaster at my university has shaken me more than I care to admit (because admitting it makes me look marvelously unreasonable).
I still know the words. Perhaps I even have some ideas (unformed and plotless, but then, what's new about that?)
But a switch has flicked, and all I'm getting is white noise when I try to write something down. Understand, this isn't my desire. I haven't lost interest. It's not that I can't do it. I just...won't. Like some sort of reverse writers' block. I'm not out of ideas, I'm not out of desire, I'm not out of enthusiasm. But I'm sure as hell out of something.
I don't feel smart right now.
But I guess that will pass.
I start my summer job tomorrow. This may have some sort of effect on me...
White noise.
Had I anything to write about, I think I could still do it. But for some reason, I won't. A disaster at my university has shaken me more than I care to admit (because admitting it makes me look marvelously unreasonable).
I still know the words. Perhaps I even have some ideas (unformed and plotless, but then, what's new about that?)
But a switch has flicked, and all I'm getting is white noise when I try to write something down. Understand, this isn't my desire. I haven't lost interest. It's not that I can't do it. I just...won't. Like some sort of reverse writers' block. I'm not out of ideas, I'm not out of desire, I'm not out of enthusiasm. But I'm sure as hell out of something.
I don't feel smart right now.
But I guess that will pass.
I start my summer job tomorrow. This may have some sort of effect on me...
