The end

I'm sad about this ending. Still working to hit that page count, but I'm practically done. 

Here's what I've got. I will never ever share the majority of these with all of you:

Organs

The worst part 

Mandy - girl who floats. Actually really like this one (magical realism)

Jamie - girl who stops time. I like this one too. (magical realism)

God story - Could be better, it revolves mostly around dialogue and that's my biggest problem area. It's kinda funny, but I'm not all too pleased with the quality of the piece

Something sort of like the worst part - a little stream of consciousness like. I'm upset I have to include it, but I still need it for page count

My memior - I like this one, it doesnt really count as a short story, but I never committed myself to fiction and it is my story, so

Thanksgiving: something I started writing a while ago about the worst thanksgiving ever. Finishing it up. It's ok.

I never figured out how to count the pages. Like if it's 4.5 does that round to 5?? This is all stuff I should have thought of before, but didn't. It's a little stressful, but I can get it done.

All in all I'm ok with how this has gone. There are things that could have gone better, and things that couldn't have gone better if I tried. I've made some things that I'm really proud of, others that I'm not so much. Not gonna lie it's been an emotional process as well. It's hard for me to write about anything I don't connect with, so I've had to be really in touch with myself. It's nice to be in touch with yourself, but I can't do it 24/7. It's not always the happiest thing. 

It's been a good time though. I've liked hanging out with Kylah. I liked dropping classes. I like being able to work on things I actually want to work on. I like making things. It was hard, but I liked it.

I hate me.

This is f*cking hard.

I'm having to sacrifice my standards for meeting my page count and I'm pissed.

To those of you who want to do a senior project that involves writing, here is a warning:
DO NOT COMMIT TO A PAGE COUNT. YOU WILL LIVE TO REGRET IT. COMMIT TO A NUMBER OF WORKS. COMMITTING TO A PAGE COUNT WILL MAKE YOU GO AGAINST EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR.

On the plus side I've decided to make two of my stories that were realism, magical realism. I now have a girl that floats and a girl that stops time. I really like where they're both going.

I feel kind of bad because I haven't really been involving Ms Franks much. We just meet on occasion. She's always hella helpful, but I haven't been the best senior project person.

Anyway. No one reads my blog and I've kind of disappeared from school, so as the school year ends Im just fading out. Which is kind of nice, but not really my style. I like to do things with a bang, but sitting behind a computer writing all day doesn't really lend itself to a bang of any sort. This project has taught me a lot about myself. How I need to work to get anything done. What I like to write about, what I can write about, how I sounds when I write. I've really liked this. I'm getting kind of sentimental about it.

I hate myself a little, but I've had fun.

Shout out to Bailey Johnson, literally the only person in the world who reads my blog.

Digging

Today I went looking through old stories because, surprise surprise, I don't have 20 pages.

Anyway, I found an old story I wrote earlier in the year and I finally figured out what I want to do with it. Thank goodness.

So, in this story god is a crappy multi-tasker and all the bad things that have ever happened are the result of his incompetence. He highjacks all forms of communication and makes this big speech about some of his mistakes, when he was just supposed to make a brief appearance and ask for world peace. So, god gets fired. It's a short little thing, but I like it.

I also found two stories about two different girls that I have to turn into something, but it's all good. I know I can.

I also found something about the worst thanksgiving ever. So maybe I can use that?

I sound scrambling because I am. I screwed this one up a little bit. And am also entrenched in self loathing. But weirdly Im still enjoying this??

I BLAZED through my work today

Heh. Blazed. Get it? Cause 4/20? Heheh.

Anyway, today was cool.

Most of the writing I did during the day turned out to be a waste, but the night writing went so so well. I've been working on one piece for a while and I had the beginning and the end, but I didn't have the middle. I have it now though! This is the one thing I have ever made that I'm proud of. I probably won't let anyone but Ms Franks and Mr Newman read it though. Sorry. It's personal.

A few days ago I talked about the saying "write drunk, edit sober."Well, I've figured out that for me it is write incredibly tired, edit well rested. I don't have much of a filter to begin with, but when I'm tired it goes away totally. That's good for some things, not so good for others. Really good for writing though. Lots of times I know what I want to say, but I don't really know how to say it. However, being super super super tired helps out with that.

I'm starting to get a little worried that I may not have enough pages. I've mainly been working on quality rather than quantity, but I promised 20 pages. So. This'll be fun.

I am trash pt 4

After waking up from my lovely yoga mat I went on to a day full of classes.

I really loved the classes at smith. I even sat in on a short story class. It was fantastic. We read Gravity's Angels by Michael Swanwick. It was also fantastic. The girls were all kind of quiet though. I participated more than most of the actual students.

After that I went to Thinking about thinking , where we talked about soft determinism, Intro to Women's and Gender studies, where we split into small groups and talked about the patriarchy, and the psychology of personality, in which I almost fell asleep.

It was all great, really really great, but I just didn't feel it. I could see myself dying of boredom. They don't have a literary magazine.

I wrote on the plane ride home. Tried to write a story about a 24 hr museum. Everything was filth.


SIDENOTE: I think lots of places should be open 24 hrs
1) Museums. THis is very important. Sometimes the best time to appreciate a peice of art or the right science fact is late at night or early in the morning. Imagine being up late, not having anything to do, and realizing that you can go learn about that history, science, art, ect in a place that was built to honor those things. There is something about a museum that I just love. It's this lil sacred place that was built to share knowledge with the public. Mere centimeters of glass have separated me actual mummies. I could have reached out and touched a Monet or that picture of the girls we studied in American Studies. Museums are so rad. I would work at one. I want to open the first 24hr museum.
2) Bookstores. Bookstores are special places. There is something about being surrounded by books. It's so damn calming. I bring about 6 books to school every day now. Some days I don't even open them, I just like having them with me. I feel safe. They have a nice smell. Feeling the pages and turning them to get to the next part of the story feels so intimate. Like this book is only telling you and you have to caress it's pages and if you don't turn it's pages it'll die because it just has to tell you the story. Kindles are cool, because you can get a book right then and there, but there is something about a book. That you can write in and love and carry with you and read on the subway. A book absorbs your tears when your favorite character dies, a kindle just needs to be wiped off.  If I didn't have to worry about making money, I would open an independent 24 hr bookstore in SanFran and I would live above it, surrounded by books and happiness.
3) Sushi restaurants. Good sushi restaurants. I think this one is clear. Sometimes you just need sushi.
4)Libraries. Almost the same as bookstores, but not quite. Here, you can take the books with you for free. For free. And librarians are lovely people. I used to want to be a librarian when I was little. I was friends with my librarian. Every time I went to the library I would always check out something by Tamora Pierce. I'm pretty sure Tamora Pierce is a big part of why Im a feminist. Her books are amazing and should be mandatory for every child.
5) Ice cream shops.

That's all I can think of right now.

I am trash pt 3

Thursday was freaking terrifying. I slept on the floor on a yoga mat.

I didn't do as much because I was off on a college acceptance trip thingy where people go look at college. I went to Smith.

College makes me hyper uncomfortable, so I felt mildly ill all day.

We (My mom and I) flew into Hartford and I learned that Hartford is not a real place. It is, but good god the airport. No one looked like they were anxious or in a hurry and it was all very off-putting. The atlanta airport always has the feel of "OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO DIE IF I DONT MAKE IT TO MY GATE RIGHT NOW." I like that. It's homey.

After leaving the creepily calm airport, we picked up our rental from the sleaziest car rental guy EVER, and then got on the road. Smith is about an hour outside of Hartford, depending on traffic. I expected to really like it. I didn't.

It was nice; I had a really fun time. My host was lovely. We played cards against humanity with her friends and their prospies late into the night. I made horrible jokes about altar boys and satan. It was great fun. Even sleeping on the floor was alright.

But it just didn't feel right. More coming in I am trash pt 4

I am trash pt 2

Once again, I am trash.

Wednesday was nice. Spent time writing stuff I won't use. Wallowed in self pity/despair.

I now understand why a lot of famous writers are drunks. Joshua Bennett told me to write my truth, but my truth sucks. It sucks giant popsicles. To be able to look at yourself and how much you suck you must have to be smashed. But I think I kind of like it. I'm disgusting.

It is kind of fun to look at things and say "this is how this is for me" and write about it. Try and bring what you feel and make it accessible to people who are not you. That is surprisingly hard. I like people and I like to communicate, but I think I suck at it?? It's very hard to find someone who knows what you mean a lot of the time. And writing is a way to bridge that gap. It doesn't have to be about a specific incident, but if the feeling behind it is there and true, someone should understand you.

It's really nice to have another writing project around. Kylah is the bomb diggity. She understands my deep self loathing. She works way harder and way better than I do though. That's a little annoying, but it's nice to have something to aspire to.

I have now decided I will not go to sleep before 1 this week. It is way easier to write when kind of tired and on the brink of breaking. I think maybe it's because there are fewer boundaries? More vulnerable? Easier to reach that stupid glimpse of truth that is so damn precious? If I write one true thing this whole month I will be freaking ecstatic.

A large part of me feels like I haven't done enough to write true things. Or that Im not interesting enough. Or that Im not old enough. Or that I'm just not enough. I don't know. I feel like I need something I don't have and can't get.