December 17th, 2003

smirking half-hawk


My muse is brooding and sulky.

I am only truly inspired to create Art (as opposed to art) when I'm in a bad mood. The same goes for poetry; I can only write Bad Goth Poetry.

I know I'm spending too much time angsting when my internal monologue starts to resemble my Bad Goth Poetry, or a descriptive piece of H.P. Lovecraft's writing.

I need two days, one to sit around and do absolutely nothing, and another to spend industriously restoring order to the apartment; it's more of a mess than I am comfortable with right now, and for those of you who've seen how I live, you can understand that that's saying something.

Until I get some time to crash, though, I just don't have the energy to to anything useful.

I might be able to get my two days over Christmas break, but it's going to be a close call... it may have to wait until February.
  • Current Music
    the sound of me remembering to turn on some music
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