8:53 p.m. x 2008-09-07
currently listening to: "les rois mages" by sheila
i've been working all weekend to try and write something my professor will find palatable. i hope this latest effort does the trick. i don't need him tearing me up on a personal level again. maybe a few weeks from now, but not this week.
melody and i went out earlier in the week and talked about our major/s. technically speaking, we'll graduate with the same degree, which is an bachelor of arts in english with a concentration in creative writing. she's taken the poetry track, and i'm taking the fiction track. i was rambling about how even if i graduated with a psych degree, i would still wind up writing. that's what i want to do. that's all i've ever wanted to do, in spite of all the lengthy and hardcore periods of denial that have occupied my life so far. it is what i want to do, it is what i love to do, it is what i do.
so i was going off on this, practically to myself, and she says how the reason she's in the program, and why she's doing poetry, is because she wants As, and she expressed concern about how she'll get along when she isn't getting grades for what she's doing.
i came dangerously close to comforting her with "don't worry, sylvia plath felt the same way!", but i had the presence of mind to withold that statement.
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start