Too-Short Attention Span

i've figured it out. and sadly i'm not referring to what i want to do with my life. but i've figured out why i love times million to study poetry but writing it always leaves me dead. and it feels good to learn more and more about my personal style because that means the building bricks are building! so the drumroll is that my writing mainly stems from playing with language, bending the rules, shock. poetry is the no-rules form, prose has rules. if there are no rules, there are no rules to break. i'm not even talking about writing prose poetry, i'm talking poetic prose & not toni morrison (though the lady really rocks).

mapping out my college years seems really, really unlike me. but i've realized that, if i don't do this now, i can't do it all in four years.

there is so little memory on my computer that i have to write my papers on blogspot and save them as drafts. i am in a bidding-war with over the crosley entertainment center. life, oh life.

i am still having an existential crisis that goes like this: if all i can do is write, if it really is the thing i can do ... then how come i haven't produced anything worth slapping my name on since i got here? if all i need to do is write, then how come it's the only thing i don't want to do. there's a marriage of ideals and words that dies when the sheet (digital, analog, or organic) comes into play. and i can't get over the intense downward slope that follows the instense jump for the pencil and napkin. but disappointment and rejection is 80% of what it means to write for a living. so i'm going to get over this fear of failure. and that aside, i can devote my life to the study of english, the study of film, and in the end i won't be writing novels or screenplays. i'll be entering data into a database for morgan-stanley. and this is something i've thought about a lot, but add this onto the sudden bout of emotional, cause-less, out of nowhere depression-heaviness i've been experiencing and you've got the what's left of me.