Sent: 12/13/2001 10:53 PM
my hare stands at wit's end
i's bearly resting
eye feel something is clothes
bustle of dried rose petals in the breathes
There is a part of me that would love to be a poet; however, the above attempt shows otherwise. haha. Maybe someday, when I'm less preoccupied by more wordy explanations of things. When I can trust my imagery.
Still under the weather, I remain. I suppose I should say that the weather has been quite over me, for it feels more like an attack rather than a meandering storm. Nevertheless, I shall kick out of this little rough spot. It is, therefore, only a rough SPOT. Spots are never the entire surface. On to the surface, Sir Gurley, on.
I have been in great distress over these application essays. I tell you, it is no easy feat organizing your thoughts and ideas about your life. Well, it's hard for me anyway. There is a part of me that has so much to say, but I don't want my application to be a novella. Ugh. And then when I break it down, it loses a little meaning from each story I could cut.
Not that I've written anything, mind you. No, these are just plaguing thoughts that I can't seem to shake. My dad gave me some really good advice tonight, which I will take. Just start writing something, a little bit a day, set aside some time for essay writing. A very good idea. =)
I'm listening to one of my favorite piano suites. I have absolutely no idea who it is, what song it is or anything? Isn't that sad? I really need to know what I like. Anyway, it's on one of my college Music Appreciation class CD's, and it's simply tremendous.
What else to tell you? I'm at a loss for words. And your attention span is short, as is mine, so I'll just close, and not prolong this on both ends. hahahahahah! Have a wonderful day! And smile!
