Gyms, Rings, and Poetry
I'm feeling uncommonly normal.
I broke down this morning and joined a gym. They're always talking about how physical activity will make you feel better and whatnot. Unfortunately, it did. I only did the elliptical thing for like half an hour, but, near the end of that half hour, I was sad that I had to leave.
I didn't have to leave, but I had sort of planned my morning. In any case, it was a pretty good deal. I have to figure out how to do useful things there so that I don't just hide on the elliptical forever.
In other news, I'm totally digging my new Ring of Distraction. I still have to figure out how to use it effectively, but, even these past two days, I have felt this barrier: When I (figuratively) reach for a distraction, I remember my ring is off, so I can't distract myself. I've even made a habit of glancing my hand across it if distracting thoughts come up—as if I'm letting it absorb the distraction.
Yes, it's weird, but weird is better than self-destructive, so get over it.
In other other news, I took many small steps or one large step toward getting my book published yesterday! I have been working on the website authors.me, which is half a guide for aspiring authors and half a tool for connecting them to agents. I tried to fill out stuff for it like a year ago; it's really cool to see how my attitude has changed, even how my writing has changed.
That's one of the big reasons I'm determined to preserve all my poems: they show many milestones throughout my life, but they also show the progress of my writing. The very first poem I ever recorded is actually quite good for a 4th grader. Following that, most of them were somewhat reflective and charming. I soon started becoming obsessed with girls, and my poetry became really pukey. I wrote a few gems in between my cliché vomit-fests. Then, my poetry started getting dark, very dark. Finally, my poetry is reawakening.
I love looking back and seeing all the (figurative) places I've traveled. I have literally traveled to some places, but those don't stick out in my heart so much as the people and relationships and the emotions and the perspectives.
I need to write so many stories, but, for now, I shall try to get one of them published.
I broke down this morning and joined a gym. They're always talking about how physical activity will make you feel better and whatnot. Unfortunately, it did. I only did the elliptical thing for like half an hour, but, near the end of that half hour, I was sad that I had to leave.
I didn't have to leave, but I had sort of planned my morning. In any case, it was a pretty good deal. I have to figure out how to do useful things there so that I don't just hide on the elliptical forever.
In other news, I'm totally digging my new Ring of Distraction. I still have to figure out how to use it effectively, but, even these past two days, I have felt this barrier: When I (figuratively) reach for a distraction, I remember my ring is off, so I can't distract myself. I've even made a habit of glancing my hand across it if distracting thoughts come up—as if I'm letting it absorb the distraction.
Yes, it's weird, but weird is better than self-destructive, so get over it.
In other other news, I took many small steps or one large step toward getting my book published yesterday! I have been working on the website authors.me, which is half a guide for aspiring authors and half a tool for connecting them to agents. I tried to fill out stuff for it like a year ago; it's really cool to see how my attitude has changed, even how my writing has changed.
That's one of the big reasons I'm determined to preserve all my poems: they show many milestones throughout my life, but they also show the progress of my writing. The very first poem I ever recorded is actually quite good for a 4th grader. Following that, most of them were somewhat reflective and charming. I soon started becoming obsessed with girls, and my poetry became really pukey. I wrote a few gems in between my cliché vomit-fests. Then, my poetry started getting dark, very dark. Finally, my poetry is reawakening.
I love looking back and seeing all the (figurative) places I've traveled. I have literally traveled to some places, but those don't stick out in my heart so much as the people and relationships and the emotions and the perspectives.
I need to write so many stories, but, for now, I shall try to get one of them published.
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