wait faster

I've a bookmark that informs me that "a fine beginning is a beautiful thing." it must be true. it's chinese.
it's true. been trying for more than a week to restart the novella. figured it out last night, wrote it today. tried several other ways to start it. didn't work. died. now it's alive.

I really wasn't aware that gandhi had such a distended forehead. a political cartoon tells me it's so. what am I but a repository and reassociative mirror of media images?

really. thank goddess I found a way back into this story. I've been so dead.

my aesthetic statement for poetry says that if I don't write, bad things happen. equal parts funny haha and truth. I remind myself here that it. is. true. don't let it happen to you.

I feel like a prat for having read the "people" section of the newspaper today. I wouldn't admit to it. here's my secret. no, really, that's it.

I act differently if I'm on my porch. if it's sunny. if it's warm. if I'd just had lunch. if I can't/won't/haven't yet found a way back in. point case? today. wrote an email to an individual [man-boy-20] I've known several months saying that I liked him. true? not really. but see, but see, but see! I knew he'd write back. and that I'd get something good out of it. I did like him. before. before. melyssa asked me if I would be willing to wait for minus-tiful, and I affirmed. I think I would be. am? for now. boring, though, it's boring. and I do like him. danger? that I do something just to un-bore it. I'd knock myself cold with the frying pan of sense if given a chance. change.

it's still pm. an hour away from am. I'm tired. I've done things today. either home is soporific, or I hadn't been doing much at school. likely a mix of both. remedy. working on it. choosing helps.