Argh. I tried. I really did. I tried to sit down and write--which I haven't done in so long--and I just couldn't. I have the story in my head but all my inspiration has flown out the window. This is how it feels when I try to write poetry, except this isn't poetry. This is just regular writing. It's like super-mega writer's block that happens to me about every month or so.
I have so many stories in my head, too! I've also enjoyed going to counselor's, you see. But I hate how organized everything is. Emotions shouldn't have a label and be an equation. So I keep imagining this story, with this girl going to a counselor. I don't like the idea that they warm up to each other (sooooooo unoriginal). But I don't know...
As the counselor spoke, she stared intently at the colorful poster on the door. It was a chart of moods--whatever her clients were feeling for the day. Did they actually buy that? Did they actually think that being cramped into this cluttered room every day helped them?
"Marisa? You listening? I want you to try this. When you're feeling upset about your mom, force yourself to think of something positive. Force yourself to smile."
"Does this work with everything?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then screw it. Pain isn't one-size-fits all."
"Marisa, that's not what I mean--"
"Do you give the same solution to everyone? What a load of crap."
You see? Badness, down to the core of its being.
I also toy with rebellion a lot, in my head.
So, apparently, there's a dance tomorrow, which I don't have a ride too. And Nat's not going if Ani's not going, and Silver never goes to these things. Kim's probably going, and Lolo's probably only going if Nat and Ani are. Oh, and I don't have a ride. Usually I turn to Lolo in such matters. IF she's going.