Free association
Mar. 24th, 2003 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raven"She's empty and so beautiful, I'll keep her here with me."
I have way too much work to do to be writing in here. But I have to because it's an addiction. And I'm not ashamed of it. "Feel no shame for what you are..." and all of that.
Work to do: Classics essay on religion in Pompeii, some of 1999 maths paper, I ought to start my media coursework, print off my history coursework, and I need to do biology questions. Gah.
These terrycloth sweatbands are my new favourite things. I couldn't take them off 'cause they're so comfortable and so very cute. I just know my mother is going to hate them, because I love them so much. So she won't ever see them, of course. They'll fall naturally into my pockets when I see the gate opening. Yes, the gate has finally been fixed. It actually opens and closes when you press the control.
So... yes. Has anything actually happened, beyond my being dreamy and silent? Anything beyond an experiment-to-make-yoghurt, or a lesson-for-working-on-our-coursework-girls?
[And oh, look. The green icon on the taskbar has turned yellow. I'm not connected to the internet any more, whatever will I do]
This is free association. That's the mood I'm in. I don't want to structure my sentences or tell a story. I want to write in a neverending stream just empty my head of all thoughts until they're all gone all spilled onto paper or a white screen white because I even made the scrollbar that colour just words all words it's always words isn't it full stops never start world war three it's words that have the power and that's why I'm glad I never actually learned how to draw not that that has anything to do with anything spill out and over, free.
Words.
I have way too much work to do to be writing in here. But I have to because it's an addiction. And I'm not ashamed of it. "Feel no shame for what you are..." and all of that.
Work to do: Classics essay on religion in Pompeii, some of 1999 maths paper, I ought to start my media coursework, print off my history coursework, and I need to do biology questions. Gah.
These terrycloth sweatbands are my new favourite things. I couldn't take them off 'cause they're so comfortable and so very cute. I just know my mother is going to hate them, because I love them so much. So she won't ever see them, of course. They'll fall naturally into my pockets when I see the gate opening. Yes, the gate has finally been fixed. It actually opens and closes when you press the control.
So... yes. Has anything actually happened, beyond my being dreamy and silent? Anything beyond an experiment-to-make-yoghurt, or a lesson-for-working-on-our-coursework-girls?
[And oh, look. The green icon on the taskbar has turned yellow. I'm not connected to the internet any more, whatever will I do]
This is free association. That's the mood I'm in. I don't want to structure my sentences or tell a story. I want to write in a neverending stream just empty my head of all thoughts until they're all gone all spilled onto paper or a white screen white because I even made the scrollbar that colour just words all words it's always words isn't it full stops never start world war three it's words that have the power and that's why I'm glad I never actually learned how to draw not that that has anything to do with anything spill out and over, free.
Words.
