Change of environment

So I suppose that until now, it hadn’t occurred to me the (admittedly limited) capacity my school library holds. Specifically, the fifteen rarely-occupied huge Macs that are totally free to use after school. As I often have a bit of time waiting for my friends after school, I find myself here several days out of the week, and I only just figured out that WordPress isn’t blocked

Naturally, the first thing I did was check out my mom’s most recent blog post (she nagged me about it in the car this morning so I promised I’d check it out) and then I came here. I guess this shouldn’t really feel all that unique, but I really don’t use the school computers much. I almost exclusively type from my laptop, holed up in the corner of my bed, surrounded by the same mottled blue walls and low, slanted ceiling, the after-images of my polka-dot bedspread often dancing behind my eyes.

Now, I sit next to a row of thesauri and dictionaries, across from a wall stylistically labelled “Non Fiction” (I’ll try not to twitch from the notably missing hyphen) and a few aisles with posters that delineate their positions in the Dewey Decimal System. The Arts–700. Sports–796. Literature–800. Shakespeare–822.3. Geography–910… and so on.

It is the twenty-fourth, with six days left until I begin the Story A Day May challenge for the second time. The plan is that I will actually write this time around. If all goes quite well, I might even be able to keep writing after the end of the month. That would be ideal. I want to keep writing. It’s always nagging at the back of my mind. The problem is that there’s something that pointedly does not nag at the back of my mind–a thought to put on paper. I really don’t have ideas.

People always say to draw from life, but my life isn’t exactly, ah… stimulating? I love my life. It’s just boring. I spin and I knit, I write in my diary, I went to an amusement park last Saturday. Today my shithead stoner of a section leader took my solo away in band. It was four notes, but I’m still bitter about it. I emailed myself a pattern for a sweater I want to make for my sister. I baked some bread a little while ago. My boyfriend asked me to prom.

–See, clearly things happen in my life. The problem is that they really aren’t things I want to write about. Shall I bemoan the loss of my two-beat moment in the spotlight in band? How petty do you think I am? I promise you, I’m not that bad.

I keep having this sense of empowerment and oneness when we play some of the songs for our “pops” concert in band. There are lots of great melodies with such strong tone or delicately high bits that hang in the air, or moving slow sections that ebb and sway, or parts where the whole band is harmonizing and it sounds so unified, but then the song ends, and the feeling falls away, and I can’t capture those feelings. It’s only been about an hour since I got out of band today, but I can already feel the energy from the music sinking into the ground. I’m not usually very impacted by music. It’s just not my thing. I can’t find anywhere to put all this emotional energy. It has to go somewhere, but now it’s just dissipating around me. I’m sure it has some purpose. I hope I can figure out, come next Monday when I start writing a new story every day. I hope I can put all this weight into something.

I’m sorry for this post, what with it being so… discontinuous. It’s the atmosphere of the library, maybe. I’ll blame that for now. Talk to you later, chickedies.


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