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let me put my poems in you
Jun. 19th, 2017 08:53 pmI haven't posted since...March?? How is that possible?
Oh, right. I spent all of April and May trapped in an allergy vortex. A place of phlegm and misery, where time does not exist.
I mean, okay. I know springtime hayfever is not uncommon. But mine is -- special. Yeah, let's go with that. Special. Special like someone strapping a bucket filled with bees to my head, and then rolling me up in a rug also filled with bees and yes, I know this is a terrible, half-assed metaphor, but -- BEES.
That kind of special.
It's always been that way. I end up losing an entire season. It's just...gone. And then the whole experience leaves me angry and disoriented, shuffling around, muttering about, well. Bees. The prettiest zombie at the zombie prom! And I stay that way 'til the weather starts slowly getting hotter and I wake up one random morning yelling, "the beach, the beach! Let's go to the beach!"
Sigh. I really do miss the beach.
Anyway. I've had a few new fic ideas over the last couple of weeks and, amazingly, I was even letting myself get excited about one or two of them, but then --
BUT THEN --
Ugh. I don't know. This morning I had an awful, sinking moment where it occurred to me just how sitcom-y they all are. Just trite and cutesy-pie and -- all of them! And, no. The kinds of plots that can only ever really be resolved by an Olsen twin popping up from behind a piece of furniture and saying, "You got it, dude!" And then -- hearty chuckling and a freeze frame, I guess?
Seriously, there isn't a single one I can't picture ending that way. And it sickens me.
I am thoroughly demoralized.
Oh, right. I spent all of April and May trapped in an allergy vortex. A place of phlegm and misery, where time does not exist.
I mean, okay. I know springtime hayfever is not uncommon. But mine is -- special. Yeah, let's go with that. Special. Special like someone strapping a bucket filled with bees to my head, and then rolling me up in a rug also filled with bees and yes, I know this is a terrible, half-assed metaphor, but -- BEES.
That kind of special.
It's always been that way. I end up losing an entire season. It's just...gone. And then the whole experience leaves me angry and disoriented, shuffling around, muttering about, well. Bees. The prettiest zombie at the zombie prom! And I stay that way 'til the weather starts slowly getting hotter and I wake up one random morning yelling, "the beach, the beach! Let's go to the beach!"
Sigh. I really do miss the beach.
Anyway. I've had a few new fic ideas over the last couple of weeks and, amazingly, I was even letting myself get excited about one or two of them, but then --
BUT THEN --
Ugh. I don't know. This morning I had an awful, sinking moment where it occurred to me just how sitcom-y they all are. Just trite and cutesy-pie and -- all of them! And, no. The kinds of plots that can only ever really be resolved by an Olsen twin popping up from behind a piece of furniture and saying, "You got it, dude!" And then -- hearty chuckling and a freeze frame, I guess?
Seriously, there isn't a single one I can't picture ending that way. And it sickens me.
I am thoroughly demoralized.