Elle (llieno) wrote,
Elle
llieno

Not Rhyming

Sorry about that last night. I'm feeling better now, but I'd still like to type it out at some point, probably between my doctor's appointment and the weird GDR class that's taking place on this theoretically empty week. I suppose it's nice having things to go to, since it should stop me sitting and thinking and driving myself crazy by grabbing buried feelings, current feelings, and dancing a twisted waltz without the orchestra of reason getting much airtime.

Although my Midlands poem got ignored. It wasn't good enough anyway, I should have spent more time on it. And made it rhyme. There was a time I believed a poem wasn't a poem unless it rhymed, and I spent hours on hours on some homeworks ensuring that they did. I loved doing poetry at school and I was a little upset when we stopped writing them and just analysed them instead. I find it darkly amusing my crazy poem is actually a lot better. When read aloud. So much of my poetry works best read aloud. I wonder why that is? I'd like to think it's partly in the telling, and yet...

Although I do feel again that my poetry isn't that great.

Laura came round and made me stew! Which is lovelytasty. It was a good evening, Laura is a sweetheart, and it was very useful to just let feelings out (at a different person's lap this time). I worked out the two, possibly three, things that together were leaving me feeling so all-over-the-place. I am afraid of sounding like a bit of a broken record when I talk about some of them though. Generally, I'm very succeptable to paranoid fears. That's the main thing. They never seem paranoid when I worry about them though.

I'll be less cryptic later. Right now, I am in my new pyjamas. Or the bottoms at least, since it's too cold to wear the top. They are wonderful. Not quite wonderful enough for me to wear them onto campus, mind.

I don't know if this entry is going anywhere. I probably should, though.
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