I can't think up witty post titles, but that isn't surprising because, each time I post, I'm not really writing about anything in particular.
Currently, I'm fighting my schoolwork, or trying. Rather like how a little mouse might fight a rat... I'm not sure. I'm really into mice right now, because they're tiny and cute and keep dying in our house (I feel sorry for them).
I keep thinking how I wish I could buy all these different kinds of folk harps. There are lots that sound nice, but they all cost a significant amount of money and I know I'm not going to try to buy them all when I'm older, because... I must settle with only a few, and make sure the purchases make sense. I mean, when I'm older (have a little bit of money, I mean) and know how to play folk-harp better, I will likely try to get a big, many-stringed Dusty Strings harp. I may also try to find a lap-harp for different things- they're much lighter and more carry-around-able, and will be suitable for different things. Besides, I'm sure they're fun to play. I hope that when I run off to Hobgoblin Music again, I can find out what it's like to play one, now that I can actually play legitimately, sort of. I can't really- I haven't gotten lessons, but I think I'm doing it right. ^.^^^
NaNoWriMo is happening. I'm not sure... should I really try to do it? Will I be a rebel and just write Nostalgia, and possibly not even really do it? I think I'm probably going to end up not being able to. Mum doesn't want me to because she thinks it's what's making me stay up late at night, but it's a combination of Nostalgia, schoolwork and lonesomeness that does it. Late at night I get really depressed and lonely because I feel like I really have lost communication with my friends (the internet turns off late/earlyish... I'm so used to late hours that it seems early- ten o'clock).
I haven't tried to tell her yet, because it's so hard to formulate answers and questions and things to say. Especially orally, but even on the computer. Each day I lose my sense of discerning things 'mechanically' more, and I feel like I'm slipping farther and farther away.
But, along with that, I think I'm getting better... I seem to be recollecting little things from my 'past' more and more, and vaguely getting the idea that hope might exist and I might be able to track it down and capture it.
Nostalgia has, as of late, trotted on quite quickly. I think I said how I beated Andre, or was trying to, earlier- well, I did it, with flying colours. It was easy. He was only writing five-hundred words, and I was writing from two-thousand to four-thousand per day, sometimes a little less, though, depending. It gets harder to write Nostalgia every day when your thoughts are exactly the same as yesterday, or very much the same- you haven't got anything new to say.
I want my thoughts to flow rightly again. They kind of flit past my mind's eye, and dissolve. I can't hold on to them and elaborate on them in real thinker thought... they leave me. It's miserable. But... it's life. I always say it's life. I don't have any real sympathy for myself. I don't care much about myself, in fact, I'm angry at myself (irrationally), and I get weighed down by the sorrows of my friends and the world, and think that the world is made up of grief. It seems normal because I've gotten so used to this state I'm in, but it is not, and I need to make sure of that so that I can begin to know I need hope, and to have it.
That's the basic idea. Very general. It's all too complicated. That's why I can say I'm both getting worse and better- I'm losing grip every day more and more, but also, I'm gaining grip in another way. I'm remembering a few things once in awhile, in a vague, dissolving way, but I AM doing it, and that's good...
I hope I can somehow get better. But that might include quitting Creative Writing and Biology (my two real-life classes at a homeschool co-op). I don't want to. I have to learn Biology, and I like both classes. But I can't really keep up with the work, even though I always somehow get it done (after the last minute... *cough*). It's coping. It feels like I'm being defeated by this Cope-Monster which wants to make sure I get everything done 'somehow', without really doing it with my own nature and character, so that I can never say that I really, really can't do it. I always feel dishonest if I do. But I think it's true, so I timidly say it. People still know what I mean. At least, they say they do. I'm not sure if I believe anything (oh, well, I don't)... but I THINK it's so. I WANT it to be so.
And I REALLY hope I can get better. I don't like being this way. I think too little of myself and I'm too hard on myself and it hurts, and it's all complicated in a lot of ways. >.>
Tally-ho. Maybe I'll post soon again. I should post regularly...