I got no arms
I got no legs
Got no shoulders
But I got a head
I got a head that tells me stupid things to do.
I cannot eat
I cannot sleep
I've got a hole inside of me
Cause I'll never feel the same as you.
666th journal post! What BAMF s**t that is.
I got another Borders gift certificate. So now I have $170 just in Borders gift cards. Such a wonderful feeling. I will buy and read with giddy abandon.
Shelby kissed me on the cheek today. I don't know why. Weird. But it still made me feel happy. heart She also did it in the middle of the hallway, so now I'm probably an unofficial lesbian. Good times.
And is this love?
Is this pain?
Got a feeling I cannot mend
Slowly changing every part of me.
I know you think I'm just a toy
But I wanna be a real boy
Only want to feel the same as you.
The pokemon novel is so tiring, because I work on that before I work on my own stuff. Balancing sleep and homework and school and two novels is REALLY hard. Especially since I absolutely cannot write at any speed faster than snail slow. Plus I absolutely must work on Superbia -- at least look stuff over and check for inconsistency -- every day. But it makes me so happy, so I don't mind the severely bloodshot eyes and nonexistent reflexes.
Printed out chapter one for someone [Shelby, promised her first] to read. Finally, I think it's good enough for another human to read. But the printer wasn't working just then, and I had to catch the bus. I hope someone just stuffs it in the recycle bin and doesn't read it..
Wait, scratch that. Even if someone did read it, and I never found out, it would be nice if someone enjoyed it. I didn't put my name on it. I'm glad I didn't. The anonymity is nice. I will definitely be using a pseudonym. I like how it distances me from what I write. I like how I can write and people don't think of "Meghan" when they read it, but of some random person.
You think they'd let me still be an editor on the super, ultra 0.0000000000000001% chance I get published? Because I'd really like to do both..
I don't know, just rambles.
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ASK YOURSELF in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity..." - Rainer Maria Rilke
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When I grow up I want to be
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