Novel???

Can't please everybody... but who cares about everyone else. I can't even please myself. I hate following the pattern. But seems I have no choice...

I have to write a novel next semester. That is to say... 50,000 words of a novel THIS FALL! That's roughly 8,000 words a week. I'm freaking out and I have no way to know how to tackle this project. Many other students that will be in the class have already been working on their novel. I'm only 20 years old and I'll be able to say I have a novel under my belt? That's insane. I just hope I don't get too overwhelmed and give up. I'm also taking an acting class, asian philosophy, and films and context. I will be working minimum 20 hours a week to try and pay my bills. How am I ever going to make the time to write a freaking novel?

My mom has decided to write a novel too... but she's doing 50,000 words in a month! She bought this book that tells her how to do it. I think I would commit suicide.

I know I tend to look at the big picture instead of taking it one step at a time, and I do have many different ideas for a novel, but I can't decide which one to choose. I know my writing teacher will be able to help and mentor me, but Mel Odom writes novels in 3-4 month periods all the time. I just don't know...

Edith Minturn Sedgwick

Edie Sedgwick inspires me. She was a beautiful person and I wish I knew her. A picture can speak more than a thousand words.

Perhaps...

Shattered wind begins to gather across the green mountains. The sun hides behind a cloud, spilling its orange rays. There is thunder in the distance. I'm all alone. I'm scared.Where am I going?

I mostly write to sort out my own thoughts. Why am I not writing poetry anymore? Why do I insist on ignoring the journal that sits on my night stand? It shouldn't be a love/hate relationship. I need to be inspired. I heard once I should always make myself happy --- If someone's not happy, they need to change their situation. I intend to do that one day, but for now, I'm stuck.

These are the thoughts that surpass my somewhat intellectual mind. I love to feel the rain on my face. When will someone look into my soul? I wish there was someone who could. I wish there was someone who could see deep down into my throat and see more than the universe. More than the beginning. I wish I knew who I was in a previous life so maybe I could know what I'm capable of.

I'm less fortunate because I've seen the bad in people. Or perhaps that makes me more fortunate. I've seen hell. I've seen the devil before... and I know the devil has seen me. Sometimes we look at one another in the mirror. Yes... I think I'm less fortunate. Funny thing with drugs...

I Am... free.
But, I want to feel free.

That sun finally came out. As for me, I'm still rolling in the undertones of darkness. I'm fooling around with misery and depression. I'm getting by, still breathing, but a corpse more or less. Perhaps I need glasses to see better what's in store for me on this earth. Perhaps...