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I need to stop trying to multi-task. As a very wise man once said, multi-tasking is a myth. No one can do two things at once; you can only do one thing at a time, very quickly. I cannot crochet, play Wild Arms, write blog posts, or do homework at the same time in any combination. I have to pick one thing and stick with it.
Been feeling very solitary and singular lately; I don't know if it's good or bad, that I am withdrawing from the few venues of social interaction that are open to me. It feels like a reversion in some ways, but I'm not lonely, so I suppose that's a step forward.
Been watching a lot of TV lately, but haven't gotten my thoughts together terribly well on any of it. Still watching Glee, but it's become something I watch because I love to hate it. Started watching Eastwick, because it is amazing and joyful and doesn't make me angry.
I'm crocheting again! Started on an afghan, and this time I'm not worried about not having enough yarn to finish the bloody thing.
I'm trying to figure out what sort of jewelry making tools and supplies I can justify purchasing; right now all I'm making are earrings, which is funny, because my ears aren't pierced. But I want to make a series of things- earrings, pendants, bracelets, whatever- based on "Alphabet." I can just about see the earrings that are "Apricot trees exist, apricot trees exist" and "hail under stoneskies exists." It would be fun, and it would be a good way for me to keep from forgetting the parts of the poem I have memorized.
Thinking about writing creatively gives me chest pains. This is unfortunate, because I'm signed up for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
imaginarybeasts's next issue, and I have something called "The Clockwork Snowflake" in my head (alternately, "The Winter Engine" or "The Blizzard Apparatus"). It's got a mysterious thing in it, and I haven't quite figured out what the mystery is. (I mean, I know there's this monstrous thing, and it eats people to keep itself running, and it runs to keep the surrounding area cold, because it's some sort of half sentient, ambulatory refrigeration mechanism, but I don't know what it is keeping cold, or why. Bodies, probably, but if they're dead or just asleep, I do not know. Possibly this is going to turn into some kind of seriously fucked up retelling of Snow White. ...which might be awesome. But none of this matters if I can't bring myself to string so much as three words together in pursuit of the story.)
Been feeling very solitary and singular lately; I don't know if it's good or bad, that I am withdrawing from the few venues of social interaction that are open to me. It feels like a reversion in some ways, but I'm not lonely, so I suppose that's a step forward.
Been watching a lot of TV lately, but haven't gotten my thoughts together terribly well on any of it. Still watching Glee, but it's become something I watch because I love to hate it. Started watching Eastwick, because it is amazing and joyful and doesn't make me angry.
I'm crocheting again! Started on an afghan, and this time I'm not worried about not having enough yarn to finish the bloody thing.
I'm trying to figure out what sort of jewelry making tools and supplies I can justify purchasing; right now all I'm making are earrings, which is funny, because my ears aren't pierced. But I want to make a series of things- earrings, pendants, bracelets, whatever- based on "Alphabet." I can just about see the earrings that are "Apricot trees exist, apricot trees exist" and "hail under stoneskies exists." It would be fun, and it would be a good way for me to keep from forgetting the parts of the poem I have memorized.
Thinking about writing creatively gives me chest pains. This is unfortunate, because I'm signed up for
imaginarybeasts's next issue, and I have something called "The Clockwork Snowflake" in my head (alternately, "The Winter Engine" or "The Blizzard Apparatus"). It's got a mysterious thing in it, and I haven't quite figured out what the mystery is. (I mean, I know there's this monstrous thing, and it eats people to keep itself running, and it runs to keep the surrounding area cold, because it's some sort of half sentient, ambulatory refrigeration mechanism, but I don't know what it is keeping cold, or why. Bodies, probably, but if they're dead or just asleep, I do not know. Possibly this is going to turn into some kind of seriously fucked up retelling of Snow White. ...which might be awesome. But none of this matters if I can't bring myself to string so much as three words together in pursuit of the story.)