Tuesday, March 30, 2010


The importance of me writing is something I'm so unwilling to accept. I don't know why. I try not to write. I recently had made the conscious decision that I do not like journaling. I don't like feeling like I have to rely on my ability to write in order to understand myself and my mind.
I reluctantly accept my need for journaling. For writing.
Maybe I really am a product of this technology generation. That relies on technology to have a social relationship. That's a lie. I'm not dependent. When it is important that I clearly know what to talk about... it is important for me to write.
Last night I came home and hid in my "nothing can touch me" fort. I wrote for a little while. let out some pent up tears. Pondered how it is possible for the diva's voice to carry through walls? And then I fell asleep. And woke up startled by the next day's construction. I didn't watch the film for African Cinema. I didn't rewrite and print my summaries for CMLT 3030. I kept waking up last night, but that's okay. it was a good night. a needed hideaway.

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