I think I've found the reason why I dislike poetry so much: It's too dramatic. I mean, sometimes that's good. But I can't write that kind of poetry... It's the reason why I write my stories without some big bang romantic love; those moments don't outrank the true feelings behind love and life.
And poetry is either about that or emo feelings, which I also don't agree with. I say, get over yourself, it could be worse.
It could always be worse.
And rewriting a poem is the worst. I have to take what I originally didn't like in the first place and make something more of it. Make it bigger, more meaningful, make sure it has that "emotional center" as my teacher Bryan says.
But I don't get emotional center. I write it. And that's that. I find out what it is after I look back at it and see what I was trying to say. And if I feel like it, mold it to what I feel it needs. Otherwise, I know what it was trying to say and just leave it for some scholar in the future to find and say, "Wow, this person couldn't write poetry in the least! Let's put it on display for the world to know how the stupid people lived in her century!"
All right, so I'm getting into dramatics. Let's see what Mallory did today to tone it down.
9:40 AM: Got up and went to breakfast with new awesometastic hat.
10:22 AM: Got back from breakfast and fell back in bed to sleep a little longer. Two hours, tops.
2:00 PM: Got up from "nap" and decided I'd better really write out new poem and formal essay to go with it.
2:10 PM: Took a shower.
2:40 PM: Done with shower. Turn on MP3 player and let it blast from headphones, as radio sucks and computer is still down.
3:00 PM: Bring laundry down.
3:10 PM: While laundry is washing for those 25 minutes, check email and other things I usually check when I had my other computer. Find kiwi-bird and take it into photoshop to make tattoo. Cut a lot of background out and erased to perfection.
3:40 PM: Move wash to dryer.
4:00 PM: Start contemplating writing out poem, as know there is still things I want to add and it will take time. Click on "comment back" on Myspace account instead.
4:30 PM: Start writing on blog about why poetry sucks.
Now, my days aren't normally so "eventful." Sometimes I spend time walking through a park and imagine me doing my poetry, or laugh about poetry while ripping an undead legionnaire in half. I sometimes spice it up with talking to people.
Just kidding, I'm not that anti-social. But, in the recent, things have been a bit down because of finals. They study so much more than anyone I've ever seen. I'm blaming it on the whole school system, thing.
This is the tattoo I'm going to be getting, unless Mandikat decides to come up with a cooler design I'll be okay with on my body for the rest of my life. She wanted to take this:
but have the peacock as a kiwi instead. Which, I would find adorable. Except that the promise was made a month or so ago, and nothing yet. Of course, I understand that she's just as busy as me, so I'm not angry or anything. But I did let her know that I was getting my tattoo done pretty soon, so if she wanted to make something, she'd have to do it soon.
I'm going to get it right by my other one, probably on the back side. I've asked a tattooist about the matter, and it will probably cost around 50 bucks (less in American). If Mandikat comes through with the other tattoo, it could be more, but I wouldn't mind.
Packing has been a chore. I woke up to a messy room, papers everywhere. I know I need to pack light, but it's hard to throw out information about New Zealand and other silly attachments to my heart. But every time I look at something I know I don't need, I tell myself that I was here, so there's no need to keep every tiny paper to prove it.
I also told my mother the reason why I don't date as much, and I'm sure she was surprised. I mean, besides the whole "It takes up so much of my time," I just haven't felt the whole "Whoa." Oh, and also the fact that guys who show their unfathomable attention to me freak me out.
I guess you could say I'm just too much of an individual, so I need someone who will pay attention to me yet still be able to do his own thing. But I mainly say that, when it happens, it'll happen, and it'll just be another thing out of my control.
On a separate note, I am so stoked to see all of this Lord of the Rings shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It seems that every week here is the best week of my life.
Random Fact: Colors like red, yellow and orange make you hungry.