maybe i'm being defeatist but

I think I begin to see why stuff in the New Yorker is so depressing. It's mostly by the young, "up and coming" writers of today, right? People like me. 

Apparently we're all depressed. I know I am, and telling a happy story requires so much more effort when you've forgotten just what happiness feels like. There's no hope, is there? We don't see a brighter or better future. Everything's bleak and awful.

I don't see a victory. No happy ending. We won't win.

So I can't write the novel I've been meaning to, or the poem, or the story. It'll just be another of those depressing New Yorker type pieces. I refuse to perpetuate misery.

what have i been up to?

seems impossible to me that it's been a month already, but it has. odd.

i keep hoping to have experiences about which to write, but nothing much happens to me, you know? i work and i complain about work and i work more and i complain more and then i sing a bit and it's better for a bit. until i go back to work.

we had thanksgiving and i worked for all of it. came home to the ruins of a feast and relatives lazing in chairs too stiff for supination. cried in the bathroom with rage for missing the only family holiday that is happening this year.

we had christmas the next day and i shopped all day and decorated all afternoon and wrapped presents including all the ones i bought myself because no one else got me anything. that's okay, really. i'm 24. mum is paying for a new jacket that i helped her order. surprises on christmas are overrated.

i baked cookies all day for a reception, then sang in a concert tonight with magnify and the dude quartet. i was pretty proud of it, but silvie just wanted to go home and mom was unimpressed/less than effusive with praise. i had fun, so that's what matters, isn't it? gonna say yes.

so yeah. not much happening, but lots happening, but it's not too much after all.

The Eve of All Hallows Eve

So I was pondering Halloween costumes tonight, and I can't decide on anything. 

Should I be a pirate? Easy, and I have most of the stuff to make it passable. It's boring, though, apparently. Every time I told someone I was gonna be a pirate for Halloween, they looked disappointed. Pirate is a no go.

A tall hobbit? I did that last year, for one. For another, it'd be something I have to explain, probably. Because tall hobbit. Also a no.

Gypsy and geisha strike me as vaguely offensive.

Elf too generic. Also used that one before.

I considered being a rabid Directioner, but I'm afraid someone will just be like, "And this is different from normal you how, exactly?"

Also thought about being Queen Bass. That's a choir inside joke. Hence, non-choir people won't get it and more explaining will be required. And it seems a bit...self-aggrandizing? Nah.

I'm not clever enough for a pun or lame enough to copy something "clever" from the internet.

I may, and this is a huge MAY, be WCW. Just need a red wheelbarrow, some white chickens, and a spray bottle of rainwater for glazing. If anyone asks what I am, I'm just going to spritz my wheelbarrow, look them dead in the eye, and say: 

so much depends

upon

. . . . you know the rest, and I'm not a plagiarist.

here we go again

my lack of self control is still in full effect, it would seem. 

the internet is not my friend.

good night.

so it begins

the time is 12:39 a.m.




i knew there was a reason internet was a bad idea.

it's been 84 years...

*takes huge breath*

I

*bursts through the door*

HAVE

*crashes through 3 walls to get outside*

INTERNET

*rips shirt in half*

. . . 

*to reveal tastefully modest camisole*

IN MY ROOM

mm....

i just did a terrifying thing

i asked a question

i asked someone for something

i asked for something i really really want

i have no idea how it's going to turn out

i am avoiding