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Realization I had yesterday

I had sort of hoped that my livejournal would become this magical blackhole of thought: I would put stuff in and it would all just come together on the other side. I keep writing and writing, but nothing I say is ever life-changing, important, or smart. (That's a direct quote from my brain.)

I started sketching out a short story two days ago during a meeting and it was HORRIBLE. I haven't written anything creative in about five years now. Didn't realize how out-of-shape my creative writing muscle had gotten.

There's this honkin'-huge raven that follows me to work every morning. He's ENORMOUS and has these huge blue-black wings that are almost purple in sunlight. He always watches me. He'll fly ahead about 10 meters and settle in a tree in somebody's "yard" and watch me go by. Then he'll fly ahead again and do the same thing. Over and over again. Maybe he likes my earrings. Who knows. It reminds me of a short story I wrote about 8 years ago where the first-person narrator is followed home by all the crows and then they eat her at the end of the story (yes, it was written pre-medication).

I've discovered that I still have these thoughts of self-destruction, but I don't act on them, write stories about them. They're still rolling around in my head, but I just ignore them. I hardly notice them anymore. I don't experience the same levels of emotion as before, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. And this medication puts me more halfway between the two worlds than zoloft did. I was totally dingy with zoloft.

My right leg has been killing me this past week. It's a deep ache that I can't shake off. I also have been having complete lapses in memory and thought. A brain tumor, maybe?

Finally got a blanket for my kotatsu. NOW I know why the Japanese are so crazy about them. I get it now.

(Current list of things I get now: beer, kotatsu.)

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September 2006
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