The Downlow

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austin, texas, United States
aspiring writer, English and journalism student, hails from Texas. likes include writing, coffee, books, whisky and people.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

say you'll remember

I'm up late writing a paper and I'm having so much difficulty actually writing the paper. I cannot stop listening to Lana Del Rey. Despite everyone who hates on her, she sings some really beautiful things.
I mentioned in my last post, one of my poems is getting published in a literary journal and I'm reading it at the release event. Someone thinks something I wrote creatively is good enough to publish — I'm thrilled. This is a turning point. The thing is, though, that I submitted more than one poem, and I personally don't even like the one they chose to publish. I thought there were poems of a much higher quality that they could've chosen. Why the one I don't like? Does it mean that I don't know what's good in terms of what I produce? That my perception of my own talent is warped? Was it a fluke? The poem doesn't mean anything in particular — it's a metaphor about bitchy people that I wrote over a year ago after a friend of mine said something entirely inappropriate to the boy I was in love with. I honestly had to think to remember what even prompted my writing it. Maybe I don't realize what's worth publishing?
My horoscope today says that it will be fast-paced, which is true. I have an essay and a reading journal due at 8 a.m., another essay due at 2 p.m., class at 3:30 then a test at 5:15. I supposedly will feel mentally restless, impatient, and overly eager to get your own ideas across, which does not seem entirely farfetched.
It also says that a situation may arise which requires me to say what is on my mind, to make a decision, or to clearly voice my personal opinion on some issue. All I have to say is that I fucking hope so because it has been way too long since I've said what was on my mind and I really need an excuse. I am sorely failing at my lenten promise to be more honest, or probably more accurately, to keep less secrets.

Endless love,
Loch.

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