tds

Migraine finally hit. I could tell a couple weeks ago that it would. Missed class, which I'm sure I'll regret next week; the music one hurt, the acting one is just a minor misfortune. I've been trying lately to like that class, but I just can't get as into it as I want to. Not dropping, however, because it actually is fairly decent for a mediocre acting class.

Audrey's doing well. On my warped sleep schedule, which isn't exactly all that great, but whatever. She's sleeping in the bedroom at the moment. Great cat. Nastiest breath possible, though.

Writing on here is a horrible idea. I lose self-censoring braincells when I feel like shit. It's sort of shitty, because when I feel terrible, I'm a much better person in a lot of ways, but too nasty to use it for the reasons I should use it for. It's unfortunate.

So yeah, writing here is a bad idea.

Even though I just read it several weeks ago, and even though it severely fucked with me, I'm seriously considering rereading High Fidelity. That book scared the hell out of me; it hit entirely too close in too many ways, and I hate saying that because it sounds so stupid, by the way. And enough has gone on to where I feel entirely too...I'm going to say on schedule. And I have a serious problem with being a fictional character right now. Life's too crazy, and I'm too caught up in matters all sadly plot points in said book. Well, okay, not ALL, because I could totally do with owning a record store and banging an indie musician and living in England. Being poor, unattached, and in Sacramento isn't anywhere near as neat a story.

I tell ya, there's a certain level of abject (more abstract, really) confusion going on. It's not fun. And it's really over nothing, I guess. Really, nothing. Of all the real issues going on, with all the real problems they present, it's...something completely different. Which is where the headache comes in. Ten years I've been getting these fucking things, and I would like to think there'd be some kind of immunity or something. But no, that would make sense. Or maybe it wouldn't. Whatever.

Writing here is a bad idea.

Writing anywhere sucks, actually. I've been debating keeping going with the two stories I'm working on; both are difficult for different reasons, and could potentially take a bit of a toll, creatively. I mean, multitasking with this shit always kills me, and lately it's just been more difficult. The one story I like I can't bring myself to actually work on, so I'm doing these other ones. I really don't know if any of them are any good. I hope they are.

I think I might need to go out of town soon. Spring Break at the earliest. I might have found some business to talk myself into. I haven't done anything especially stupid in a while, so eh, why not. And really, I used to be good at legit stupid; the things I do now are mostly all me overthinking my functionally retarded things as something more standardly retarded. I'm good at defeatism, basically. Looks terrible on me, but I can run with it. A lot of the past shit has been fixed, in a lot of ways, and for that I thank a lot of those who read this because I likely won't ever legitimately or accurately admit how much most of you mean to me. But there's still a lot of weirdness. Apologies for that. But yes, I need to do something really stupid again and would like to do it elsewhere.

Writing here turned out worse than I thought it would, so I'm stopping. This one turned out too...MySpacey for me.

Later.