Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.

Boxes and Blug

So there was this one anime I watched. The main female was an artist that chose to give up a lot to stay with her cousin, just because he could support her creativity the best. Her mind was often shown as a huge expanse filled with these boxes, and she’d open one and ‘ideas’ would come out, and she’d try to catch them and make them real.

That’s how my brain’s been feeling lately… but it’s been all ideas, nothing concrete. Sadly. The words and images swirl around and scream (and in the case of some of the writing ideas, this is pretty literal) to be made real.

And clamping down on this is the shit called life. School (even now I’ve got an English project, a Chemistry review, and the stuff for tomorrow’s math test staring me in the face). Drama (friends are such fickle creatures). Parents (give it all a rest, jeez). Ugh.

I’ve got angels and demons and goddesses and all sorts of things roaming around my head. And plot bunnies galore. And none of the energy/willpower needed to do it. I mean, geez. How sad is that. Instead I spend my time holed up in my room, jamming to hyper Swedish pop and retreating into the worlds of others’ imaginations (aka shitty manga).

Blug. What an excellent word to describe life.

Oh, and sharpies smell quite nice. [/rant]

… sorry that my first post in forever is a retarded, angsty, brain-spew rant.

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