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.

I am trash pt 1

Daily blogging kind of fell off and to those of you who read my blog regularly, I am sorry. But, I don't think you exist, sooooo

Literally most of my blog posts have like 3 views. All of them my own.

So, because this isn't a daily blog this is going to be kind of sparse. Tuesday was a writing day.

I can't spend forever noodling, because then I would fail, but I would be so content just noodling. I have written so much crap I won't use.

Color mental illness thing: trash
Therapy session for therapists thing: trash
Afterlife: trash
Language: trash
Suitcases: trash

I am trash and so is everything I have ever written in my life.

So that was Tuesday. Trash.

THE MOST PRODUCTIVE DAY ANYONE HAS EVER HAD EVER

IN CASE YOU CAN'T TELL I GOT THINGS DONE TODAY. YAAAAAAY!!!!!

Today I wrote for 5 hours in a row. It was super intense. I worked on three pieces and out of those three, one is done, one is halfway done, and the other is so goddamn difficult. I think this project is the most difficult thing I have undertaken in all of my 18 years of life.

I really really enjoy writing, but at the same time I don't. On one hand it's super fun, but on the other hand it is really exhausting. It requires a ton of emotional investment and my god is that draining. This is the most vulnerable I've been in my life. Everything has to have emotion behind it otherwise it's awful, but that kind of makes me want to never ever share what I've written with anyone ever. Even if it's a story that could never logically happen, it's personal. I've put time into it; I have strong emotional ties with it. I don't want just anyone to have that access, my god. At this point sharing what I've written outside of a select group of people would feel as indecent as flashing the whole school during chapel.

Today I also thought a lot about pronouns. I really like them. In my organ story the protagonist doesn't have a name. She is just she. I think it makes her more accessible, personal.

Those are the only thoughts for today. I'm tired. Goodnight.

Field Applesauce

Today I sat in a field and drank applesauce because I didn't have a spoon. It was fun.

Something I've learned about myself is that I have a hard time focusing. I knew this before I started my senior project, but OH MY GOD I AM HORRIBLE. I can sit around and think of things for hours upon hours, but when it comes to writing things down, I do it, but very slowly and not well.

I made myself promise I would have 5 full stories by the end of this week. I have, like, maybe half that. Not even. I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just reading and writing and trying to do things??? But it's really difficult???

Today whilst sitting in the field I worked on something that ended up evolving into something else. I had thought I wanted to do a support group for therapists, but I couldn't really get that started. So, I started writing from the POV of a therapist who was way to dependent on the emotional stability of his clients (his name is Timothy) and then that evolved into a support group for people who are overly empathetic and have really really unfortunate jobs. As of now I have Timothy, the therapist who cares WAY too much about his patients, and Ruth, who  works at the humane society and is always devastated when the puppies leave her for a new home. Maybe I'll add a cop who feels sorry for the people who he arrests because he knows a lot of them have tough living situations and if they were in different circumstances they wouldn't be this "bad".

I tried to work on the language story, but I don't know how to start it/introduce the concept. Do I start with really simple language and then get more complex as my character (Roger/Nicholas/maybe it's a girl??) becomes more aware? How the effnut do I introduce the concept without blatantly being like "in this world you get a ration of words per year." HOW. I think I need to read Einstein's dream's first.

Some of you (though I doubt there's any one reading this) may be wondering about the survey. I scraped that. I think I am going to rely on my own brain for now. I seem to have enough ideas so far. The problem is getting them down on paper and having the paper say what I want it to say.

I was in a field today because I felt stuck in my space. I need to have less stuff/move around more. Being outside was amazing. The college counseling is probably not the best move unless I am in a room with the door shut. I should probably spend more time at home as school is terrible. I enjoy my classes, but oh my god being in that building when there are only like 15 days left MAKES NO SENSE. WHY IS THERE SCHOOL. I'm slightly irritated by that.

I love this project, but I also feel like I've been neglecting everything/everyone else. So, if you're in GEC, Speech and Debate, Creative Writing, Spectrum, or just in my life and you feel ignored, I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me.

Today

Today went pretty well. I know this is supposed to be daily, but I'm just going to edit this tomorrow morning and hope no one sees this.

Goodnight


Ok, so that happened, but we're all good now. I spent most of yesterday working on the same story I worked on before that. The idea is kind of hard to explain and also kind of gross and personal, so I won't share until I have something very close to done. Right now I do have a whole story, but it is crazy rough.

Ideas are really really hard to explain when you don't even really have them out of your head yet. There are some people who are amazing to talk to about ideas, because somehow with their words they take you to a place you hadn't even thought to go with something just by listening well and responding perfectly. However, there are also people who do not do that. So far I just explain things to Ms Franks and Newm and that's about it. They are both magical and pretty much always know what to say.

I've come to terms with the fact that it's ok that I won't always (will almost never) love what I make. It's really hard to get to a point where I think I've done my best work because I pretty much always think there is something else I can do. Yes, I will be proud of things, but more often than not I'm proud of a particular sentence of paragraph that is perfect and I just want everything else to be like that bUT I CAN'T DO IT. Totally fine.

Writing apparently calls for you to be in touch with yourself, which is making for some strange times/thoughts. More on that later. Goodnight for real.

Yesterday

Yesterday went really well. Admittedly this isn't a daily reflection, but whatever.

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with a half formed idea, more of a feeling really, but I made myself wake up and write. I'm super glad I did. I don't know if I'll use a single sentence I wrote in my sleepy state, but it has the feeling I want one of my other pieces to have, so that was useful.

As it was an A day I had both my class, but after that I wrote until lunch. That was the most productive I have been in all my senior project days. It was grand. I had the only good idea I have ever had in my life. I will expand upon that later, because I don't think it's quite ready yet, but in writing it I realized something.

Literally 99% of what I write is freaking terrible. Just awful. The only reason sometimes what I write is ok is the fact that it has been through various rewrites. That is all. This does not make for a good time whilst writing, but that's ok. Oddly enough I enjoy it.

Sydney and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Today was horrible. It sucked like the freakiest vacuum cleaner in the world.

It was appropriate that today was April Fool's day because today was a freaking joke. Only two good things happened. I got tacos, and had literally just ONE idea.

I read Kurt Vonnegut for about half an hour before school. That ended up being super productive because it lead to my only idea/valid thought I would have in the next 24hrs. Ok, so, in Kurt's stories (at least the early ones) you usually read about some one trying to disrupt a dystopia masquerading as a perfect egalitarian society. Reading those types of stories lead me to have a clearer idea of what I want to do with the word ration story. Basically, in this world there will be a band of rebels (I don't want to call them rebels, but I don't know what else accurately describes it???) who are trying to bring down the word ration system by creating a whole new language, so people aren't confined to what they can buy. I don't want to get too cliche, but maybe the govt. that enforces this has some sort of secret?? I don't know, that's almost embarrassing to write. Something along that line would fit though, because without words people can't unify and change things. I might tell the story from the perspective of someone trying to find the underground movement, or having doubting thoughts about their society and then being contacted. I don't know if I like that though. I may still go the Omelas route. More of an observer, no character attachment.

That's all I got done. After that brief shining moment of glory, I got sick. And for some reason I thought that because I didn't have a fever I should stay at school for english. That was the stupidest idea I've ever had. I just wasted that time trying to work in the library and lying down in the college counseling office. So, after english, I hung out with Kylah for a little, tried to motivate, ended up taking a nap with her dog. Then I finally went home.

I picked up the tacos on the way home. They were fantastic. I felt a little better after eating, so I went for a walk to help me get focused. That didn't work either. It just made me more tired. I decided today was not going to work out and I would just work more on other days. So, that's that.

Today was thoroughly disappointing.