and then...xing

Horse carriage xing. and we passed two of them in the road in the rain. That's travel for you. Beta Muse made a list of our sights in STUFF WE SAW, pretty geese and running dogs and cows to eat. We passed through a town with less than three hundred people in it. We took a super long route. Alan's already missing the little white house, he wants to live off the land, he says. Real cute.

So my new film class is making me learn the difficulty of my goal--, I want to film the Cope Syndrome book trailer next year and I've no clue where I'm going to find a camera that takes at least sixty frames per second...not that I've really looked. But it's nice to know the science behind it all. I'd love a steak right now. 

Cravings make for settling. I'd like to settle. The travel isn't to complex, no, but it wastes so much time. I'm trying to get things done. 

I wonder how many hours I've spent listening to The White Stripes. An obscene amount, I'm sure. But there's so much to do, with it being heard. All the driving. And I have to write this post today and make things in notebooks and write-a-book and do homework, for like, film class. And my acting class, which is a bunch of stylized nonsense, is at least honest about what it is, yeah?

I love what I'm doing all. But I'm hating college more every day; both in theory and in practice. It's a good thing I'm not a full time student anymore. 

The other thing. people my age. jeez. hopefully by the time I'm thirty there will be some separation between the lifestyle of productive people and the lifestyle of insecure drones, which is not a life-style anyway. 

bleck, beck, check, meck bleeding comes easy to him, he said zipmeup zip me up because asphyxiation. And that's how I met him, woke from my bed and learned about suffocation. We miss our lies made pretty, we want to be married to every love. 

I still don't believe in unrequited love, although I'm living it. I'm very stubborn. There's something wrong on his end or mine and it's no longer my business to find out. But I don't have any more energy to convince myself that I'm not worth loving. I'm just sick of that nonsense. I think I am exceedingly loved, I just haven't met by who. 

and then...spaces

The things are too many. I have too many things.

I know it's Sunday not Monday but I'll be even busier tomorrow so you get an early post. Happy Sunday :)

I got rid of half of what I owned not three months ago, and there's still too much! 

I'm packing to move and realizing how ridiculous I am. I don't need this many clothes. I should make all my books digital. I don't need so many pillows. or blankets. or soaps, jeez! 

Life is nearly never simple enough and life is too short. I don't have much, really. a little bit of jewelery, some good shoes, too many clothes because nothing fits quite right. But Alan and I are in joy, as he's a simple kind of boy. He wants to make songs. I like to make stories, myself. We're really excited about maybe gettin to do those things each day. As Bob Ross said, every day's a good day when you paint!

So, engagement is my new thing. I no longer have male friends; I only have male suitors. Which is to say, zero. I have Zero. 

It's not that I'm not mature enough to befriend males and what have you, but they aren't mature enough. And no boy's gunna marry me when he can just be my friend, gosh, they're usually too lazy for that. 

Today is Eid and the like. I get to wear pretty. I got a big book in the mail today, male today. It's all about film. So, how to fit, everything in the car, fitting in the car, fit him for the in the car, my boy made cargo, oh oh, that's kidnapping, so....

He said no it's happy tape it only stick to itself, my cowlicks will be lick licking finely made, I just keep my mouth under tape. Drums speak. And that's why, spaces. I have to pack :( 

and then...expense

It's a cyclical nightmare, not feeling worthy of love. Not feeling wanted, or appreciated, blahblahblah romatic sense bereft. 

I spoke to my Alpha Muse about it. I said "King, I am difficult to love. :("

He said: "Yes, but impossible not to love."

People will pick difficult over impossible, but it is ultimatum entire and young men really don't like ultimatums. In fact, I think, this conclusion I made with the Alpha explais why young men (the real ones, not the fictional ones), can be so completely volatile and inconsistent and emotionally abusive around me. The poor things, I've got to stay away!

My ladyfriends are commendable indeed; I can hardly adapt to myself.

Onward: I prepared my next Moleskine. For 2012 I have a theme for all of my daily journals. I'm eager to post them to YouTube and my gallery on this website.

For my POST COPE SYNDROME lifestyle, I have made lists; media, career moves, skills to learn, etc. I'm delighted about it but I can't talk about it yet...not until I've got the final cut ready...

Meanwhile I'm grappling with my University so that they'll give me credit for doing my job. There's so little real writing done at universities! What is the point? I'm supposed to halt all progress on my career if I'm to get a degree? I hope this post isn't redundant...I try to come up with new ideas over the week so that I have something good to post on Monday. Not the mention the frequent posting makes me articulate, instead of that artsy vomit which is best appreciated by the Translators. 

Aw, I miss being loved! :( No fair. Expense and worth and guys don't want a creative abstinent writer-like. Nevermind how much I love them. I forgot to wear my key choker today. *gulp* I'm supposed to wear it every day until the final cut is done and I feel naked without it. 

I want to produce a book trailer for Cope Syndrome, I start raising funds in 2013. Slow motions shots, black and white, I worry about the safety of the actors; I may need some new ideas. It's this such fascination with boys in deep water, such! I love you, Fragile Lovely!! You young men fictional so, driving me to fever!

So, my little darlings, get journaling. Your wants and needs and desires are important yada yada. Play with color, be playful, playful boys.