I'M A FOUNTAIN OF GLASS IN THE SHAPE OF A GIRL
It's starting to bother me that a lot of comments in my writing classes indicate that my writing doesn't make any sense. I was workshopped today in fiction class, and all that I really heard over and over was how this part, that part, and that part didn't make any sense. Every week in poetry class, I get at least two people who write off my poem entirely by saying they don't get it. Am I crazy? Obscure? Snobby? I can't even fucking tell. If poetry isn't making sense to me at a particular moment, nothing is. That's the way this girl works. I guess I should stop thinking like this, if I can. I don't know if I can.
Otherwise, today was pretty good. My final project for Question of Sentence is all turned in, and my professor seemed very interesting in maybe working with me on a senior project. That's all very exciting, but I don't think I'll be able to because I'm already doing a senior honors thesis in poetry. But I may still do an independent study, which would be really cool.
In general, my friends are making me feel smart and worthwhile, for which I am very grateful. I still feel like I'm waiting for some kind of message, or signal, or event that will tell me that I am still right about some things, that I still know what I'm doing. Right now I'm puzzled about that. And not at all certain of it. This week, at least, I haven't been crying randomly at the sight of things like menus and stuffed animals. I need to look out for myself. I need some more new energy in my life. To quote the Ramones: I wanna be well.
Also, to quote the Ramones: there's no stoppin' the cretins from hoppin'.
It's starting to bother me that a lot of comments in my writing classes indicate that my writing doesn't make any sense. I was workshopped today in fiction class, and all that I really heard over and over was how this part, that part, and that part didn't make any sense. Every week in poetry class, I get at least two people who write off my poem entirely by saying they don't get it. Am I crazy? Obscure? Snobby? I can't even fucking tell. If poetry isn't making sense to me at a particular moment, nothing is. That's the way this girl works. I guess I should stop thinking like this, if I can. I don't know if I can.
Otherwise, today was pretty good. My final project for Question of Sentence is all turned in, and my professor seemed very interesting in maybe working with me on a senior project. That's all very exciting, but I don't think I'll be able to because I'm already doing a senior honors thesis in poetry. But I may still do an independent study, which would be really cool.
In general, my friends are making me feel smart and worthwhile, for which I am very grateful. I still feel like I'm waiting for some kind of message, or signal, or event that will tell me that I am still right about some things, that I still know what I'm doing. Right now I'm puzzled about that. And not at all certain of it. This week, at least, I haven't been crying randomly at the sight of things like menus and stuffed animals. I need to look out for myself. I need some more new energy in my life. To quote the Ramones: I wanna be well.
Also, to quote the Ramones: there's no stoppin' the cretins from hoppin'.
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