I swear, my mind has a wall that blocks thoughts from my . . . thoughts. I'm irritated. I'm annoyed. I'm about to snap, scream, and shout "FUCK YOU TV AND LAUGHING SISTER!" My brain is combusting and Bill Cosby isn't helping at all. Music is, though. I think that if I didn't have Mel to actually of suggested Music to soothe my mind, I would have snapped and cried from how angry I am. Having a wall blocking all thoughts is aggravating (yeah, don't laugh. You try not thinking >.<). A chunk of my more creative side has shut itself down, so I'm forced to borrow Mel's for the time being. Which suits quite well. :) I tried writing a poem today. It didn't turn out. Like, complete crap. I erased it in my shame and embarrassment that I could actually produce something so . . . so . . . flipping stupid. This is why I should stick to blogging. I wrote the poem out of thought that "Hey . . . maybe," and it was all because of this contest. My language arts teacher wants me to enter a contest. An essay contest. http://www.poeticpower.com. May I add ghey? I was all excited about it at first, and then just FLOP! No way. I went to site right when I got home and in reading it, it turned out to be a total BLAH project. There is ONE positive point about the damn thing, and only one. The rest if negative.
+ Writing contest . . . if I win, then HELL YEAH
- 250 word LIMIT. Who the fuck puts a limit on a writing contest?
- Not much of an ACTUAL prize.
Now, my teacher said that I'm good. Yeah, I know. I've known. But the contest . . . just . . . Who the fuck puts a limit on a writing contest? Maybe a minimum amount of words, but not a maximum. It's like saying "Yeah, uh, you might be a good writer, but we don't really give a shit. Just take the prize and go!" Who actually writes a 250 word essay for a contest? No one. Because that's like four paragraphs. My entire INTRO would be four paragraphs.
I don't believe in all that 'young writer's of America" shit. They're so proud that children actually have the mental capacity to write. Who'd of thought that it was possible to transport thoughts into words on a page?
I'm leaning towards FUCK NO! but that would disappoint my teacher, and we all know how disappointment is with them. It's like being chained to wall with them staring at you, giving you complete silent treatment, and shaking their head. It makes you want to whince and whine, because you can't take all of the guilt that you're just eating up with every second that you stand staring back at them. Unbearable as it is, you have to bear it anyway.
*Note: my brain is done napping
Decisions, decisions. Opportunity or Guilt? You'd think any reasonable person would choose the reasonable answer- opportunity. But what is so opportune about failing? Failing like a fish out of water. Here I am out of my territory. My territory is free spirit. My territory is doing what I like, writing for hours, and getting into it. How, might I ask, do you get into 250 words? You can't.

. . . *gulps*