Problematic

Tonight I was spurned to a terrible thing- community building. I am well outside of my comfort zone. This has been a rough month in keeping up with this blog, I'm sorry. I need to even out my schedule. I should be writing every day. I have honestly been writing quite often but a lot of it has been papers that are not exceedingly interesting (though I have been getting decent marks on them.) Outside of this I am planning to begin my reviews of fall premieres but there are a few more that I need to catch up on over the weekend. My last small project is this odd "drawing a day" thing I found on Facebook that I want to keep up with. Oh, and I have begun studying French and Spanish again. Soon my brain will implode. Speaking of, I made the mistake of speaking to my mother the other day and was met with some questions that are becoming somewhat common. People have taken to asking me how I am going to deal with being alone. Another fun conversation has been: why? Why are y

Writing, I have been told (and am taking a refresher on in Comp II), is influenced by the desire to capture universal experiences. I spend a lot of time wishing I had the data on how many people are feeling the same thing I am. There is a great distance between myself and my past. Self-imposed seclusion from the majority of people I have history with. The common idea would be that it has formed a sort of scar on my psyche- I carry it with me, deeply ingrained in who I am, though I try to pretend it doesn't exist. Sometimes I look at it and it hurts. Sometimes I see the people who were there when it formed and it hurts. I wonder if they have scars in the same place. ------------------------------------------------ I have been working on this post for three weeks. It's been easier to think of other things to comment on, but I wanted to describe Houston a little bit from my point of view. I just wanted to be descriptive; I think I make a lot of opinion statements. ----------