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o l d-----n e w-----l a s t-----n e x t-----m e-----y o u-----m a i l-----n o t e s-----r i n g s-----

talent please

04/11/01 @ 12:36 a.m.

It really doesn’t make for a happy life to be a perfectionist and to be this far from perfect.
I’m constantly disappointed by myself, always underwhelmed by my thoughts and my ideas. I wish I could explain the frustration of wanting to write, but to be just disgusted by the absolute crap I come out with. I thought this diary would help with that, to keep me writing junk until my body gives me energy to write properly, but it’s really just a reminder that I’m not doing what I want to do. These stories, these characters I’ve had in my head and on scribbled note paper the past few years won’t come together for me. I can get details, and I can get general themes, but I can’t weave them together coherently, and I can’t make them interesting.
I wish ambition was talent. I know exactly what I want to write, but the words don’t make it to the page. Mine are plain, ordinary. I can list a hundred clichés I hate, and I can subvert a few, but mostly I have nothing to put in their place. It’s just so frustrating to know what I hate and what I want to do, and know I’m not capable of it.
It never occurred to me how arrogant ambition is. Wanting to be a writer... that’s not just misguided, that’s arrogant. To think I have anything to offer is ridiculous. My brother was saying that the more you write, the more you gain confidence in your writing. But I’m finding that every time I write, I like my writing a little less. I read through ninety pages of my latest turd today, and found only one page of dialogue that I actually liked.
I can’t even be happy with a piece of shit like this. A trivial, pointless, supposedly-enjoyable time-killer, and I hate every entry as soon as I put it up. Including this one.

b o o k m a r k s-----r u d i e s-----u p d a t e s-----m y--i l l n e s s -----m o v i e--r e v i e w s

Content and layout © Yawner, 2001. Hosted by Diaryland. Best viewed with IE5, probably pants with Netscape.


o l d-----n e w-----l a s t-----n e x t-----m e-----y o u-----m a i l-----n o t e s-----r i n g s-----







talent please
04/11/01 @ 12:36 a.m.
It really doesn’t make for a happy life to be a perfectionist and to be this far from perfect. I’m constantly disappointed by myself, always underwhelmed by my thoughts and my ideas. I wish I could explain the frustration of wanting to write, but to be just disgusted by the absolute crap I come out with. I thought this diary would help with that, to keep me writing junk until my body gives me energy to write properly, but it’s really just a reminder that I’m not doing what I want to do. These stories, these characters I’ve had in my head and on scribbled note paper the past few years won’t come together for me. I can get details, and I can get general themes, but I can’t weave them together coherently, and I can’t make them interesting. I wish ambition was talent. I know exactly what I want to write, but the words don’t make it to the page. Mine are plain, ordinary. I can list a hundred clichés I hate, and I can subvert a few, but mostly I have nothing to put in their place. It’s just so frustrating to know what I hate and what I want to do, and know I’m not capable of it. It never occurred to me how arrogant ambition is. Wanting to be a writer... that’s not just misguided, that’s arrogant. To think I have anything to offer is ridiculous. My brother was saying that the more you write, the more you gain confidence in your writing. But I’m finding that every time I write, I like my writing a little less. I read through ninety pages of my latest turd today, and found only one page of dialogue that I actually liked. I can’t even be happy with a piece of shit like this. A trivial, pointless, supposedly-enjoyable time-killer, and I hate every entry as soon as I put it up. Including this one.
	b o o k m a r k s-----r u d i e s-----u p d a t e s-----m y--i l l n e s s -----m o v i e--r e v i e w s







	Content and layout © Yawner, 2001. Hosted by Diaryland. Best viewed with IE5, probably pants with Netscape.