introversion

How frustrating to write these shorts and have the same thing happen to me as before–the characters keep changing. Everything keeps changing. The situations, the personalities, the events, the circumstances, the world–everything. In a way, it has more depth than I ever gave these characters before. I’ve always been in love with fantasy worlds, and playing around with Elli, Arana, Maverick, Amia, and all the others has given vent to all that wonder and awe that has always stuck me. And the human element too. Always the human element. No wonder they keep changing.

I want to fly. I want wings. I want that… absolute freedom.

Ever just feel disconnected…? I’ve been skimming through all these xangas/blogs/live journals/these things have a million different names for the same thing today (yeah, that’s why I was bitching about music on these things–didn’t even bother looking at those, hit the back button, stupid music, I want to listen to what I want to, dammit, not your hip hop/rap/emo). I’ve always felt, how do I say it, different. I mean, I could never connect? with a bunch of these people. Compared to my life, everyone lives an exciting life, filled with adventure and friends and people and events, all the time, happening. They’ve got work and relationships and complexes, but you know, I just don’t have those things. Hell, everyone around me seems like a confused teenager with a shitload of problems, real or imaginary. I’ve always had my imagination. I think when I was younger, I thought that everyone was like me. I’ve always been really dedicated to my work and I’ve always been very ostracized (consciously my own doing as well as due to things like distance and whatnot) from people my age. And I’ve always had a wild imagination. I daydream. Constantly. About anything. Especially fantasy. I love fantasy. I love everything that can’t be and will not be and may be but we’ll probably never see. I don’t want to live in this reality; I want to live in that world floating in the clouds, where people fly and laugh and perform magical feats. I want that romantic world of kings and queens and princes and princesses and knights and heroes. But at the same time, I don’t want a perfect world. I want that conflict. I want that human element. As I get older, and my daydreaming more down to earth, I find myself drawn in by the human element. Struggling with our consciences. Wondering about right from wrong. But I also know it’s not a thing for me. I just don’t find myself in those situations in reality. Maybe I’m too disconnected. Lost in something that can’t be real. I wish I could communicate all of it. Slap it down on paper. Maybe I could make mucho dinero like J.K.Rowling. I’m too lazy for that, though (and don’t we know it). I guess I’m afraid of what happens when I have to “grow up” and step into reality. Where I have to find a job and live my life out working for the green. Will I break under the strain of watching my romantic dream destroyed before my eyes? Will this world break my spirit? It’s funny. I know that in medieval days, things were far from cheery. Living was horrible. There’s no way I’d survive as a farmer either. Nothing was ever like in fantasy books. So what is there? Just a dream? Is that all we are? Dreamers? I have no idea what the heck I’m talking about. I’m confused; just not in the typical teenager way. It’s sad; I know what reality is. I just feel more alive when I’m living fantasy.

People need to stop putting music on their xangas/blogs/whatever you want to call it. It’s annoying. And a waste of download time. Get a clue. Oh, and use a background people can read off of. The glare off the computer screen is enough to damage your vision already–don’t exacerbate the problem.

Pre-calculus in the morning is evil. Two days ago, I forgot to set my alarm (I had turned it off the morning before) and when I rolled over to look at my clock, it was 7:40. My class is at 8:00. Now that was a surprise. And I still got there before the teacher opened the classroom. Dammit. Two hours of math in the morning… Torture. Most of it’s review too. Mr. Cellilli is a good teacher, but there’s not much excitement in class. (Dammit, why do I have such an old calculator? Because my calculator doesn’t have all those cool functions, I’ll have to do most of the work on paper!) No motivation to do the homework either. Ugh. Homework. I should go do that.

I can’t believe I just spent hours working on a short, eventually writing around 1000 words, only to chop it down to about 300. How frustrating. It better read well, dammit.

I’ve not quite succeeded, and I probably won’t, but as long as I keep fooling myself that I can write one short a day, then maybe I can at least write a lot more than I have any other previous summer. Besides, this really lets me explore a) my characters, b) my world, and c) my plot. If I ever overhaul Enigma again, I’m going to do it… well, maybe not right, but in a way that works, dammit.

I suppose there are quite a few reasons I changed the theme of this page. Before I was definitely focused on Enigma, and yet, as I was changing the layout and looking over the chapters to write mini summaries, I realized something–I am really dissatisfied with this story. It’s horrible. There are so many things I would cut from it. I’ve lost track of where I was going–was I even going anywhere? I don’t even if I can swallow the story.

So I’m going to back off. I’m getting into a one-shot, short story mood. Actually, as I thought about how dissatisfied with Enigma I was, the first thing that popped into my mind were all the scattered scenes I had dreamt up about the story. So maybe I’ll just sit down and write disconnected one-shot scenes for a while. Maybe then I can straighten the story out in my mind. The plot doesn’t need to be as complicated as it has become.

Yet a simple story like “in other words” about Lindsey and Mr. Rowe has me very satisfied. I enjoyed writing that. Oh, there were a few chapters of Enigma I really cherish (the one where Enigma and Jay masquerade for one–really loved that chapter). I think I’ve got to find that again. I hope I can. *sigh* I do love to write. I do.

Or did I? It’s not very beautiful or amazing compared to the other blogging sites out there, but I did manage to change the look. And without knowing what all that PHP stuff was either. And now the whole site is more or less uniform, so I suppose I should be satisified. Yay, more killer black on white to make us all blind!

Funny. I’m done. From this point on, I guess I’m not a junior anymore. School’s over for yet another three months. So why don’t I feel elated? Instead, I feel almost… let down. I won’t miss going to class or spending my day at school, but I think I was just beginning to enjoy high school. Well, that’s weird to say. I’ve never hated school, but I never found anything really worthwhile about it. Maybe it was NSLC, though I wouldn’t say for sure. I think it opened my eyes that I don’t really have to be afraid or anxious about going out and hanging out with people who for all intents and purposes I should be pretty happy and relaxed to be around anyway. Maybe it was the group of people I usually hung around with. I loved just being with them at school, joking around, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t connect with any of them on a level outside school. I mean, I couldn’t see myself going out and spending a day doing things with them. I think getting closer to Christie was probably a good thing; she’s so extroverted she’s made up for my lack and seeing her and being around her it’s kind of infectious. These last few weeks, just getting out and doing things, I’ve really enjoyed them. Heck, I almost wanted to get involved with school. (Me, involved, a laugh.) The thing is, the people I’ve gone out with are people I never considered myself associating with–especially not on this level. It’s really refreshing. I don’t know how the summer is going to go, but the thought of staying home all the time like the past summers really depresses me on level. It’s like taking one step forward and five back. I don’t want to lose what little I’ve gained. I feel… alive almost. Sometimes I feel like I’m digging my own grave. Like I don’t know anything. I guess I just don’t want to be forgotten. I want to be someone. Not famous, but I want to make an impact on someone’s life. Sometimes when I just sit back in someone’s car, probably Christie’s or John’s, just listening to the radio and looking out the window I feel really happy. Just happy to be alive. It just creeps up on me. I’ve never really ever felt that way. I’ve created a million and one excuses in my own head to hate life and people and everything else, but sometimes it’s just so much easier to sit back and look at this beautiful place I somehow ended up moving to and just enjoy it. I don’t like to talk much, beacuse in my own ears I sound stupid, but to me that silence, that moment of just being there, it’s so great. I’m more alive then than ever. God, I’ve never known what life is. It scares me sometimes that I’ll be a senior next year. I know I’ll regret a ton of things. I know I already do. But it scares me that I’ll be looking at colleges and moving on. I’m not very independent. I like to think I am, but I’m not. I’m a brat. A big one. I’m a lot of things, actually. People always have this image of me that I’m not. I guess I’m one of the best actors around. Who knows anymore? I don’t. On one hand, I have this vision of me and then it’ll hit me: all I want to do is please other people. Not even in a good way. I want them to have a certain image of me–and it’s not even the image I want! It’s all on this subconscious level and by the time I realize it I can’t help myself. Jeez, what the heck am I talking about? Alright, no more of this. I am done for tonight. I’ll vomit up my soul another day.