November 16, 2001
I am bone-tired today. I
I am bone-tired today. I woke up at 5:30 and got a little bit of writing done, but not enough. As of right now, I'm about 3,600 words behind. I don't know how much writing I'll get done today, because I have a metric shitload of homework to do tonight. Tomorrow is mostly shot as well, since I'm going to see Harry Potter after class, then going to see Sweet Honey in the Rock tomorrow night. Sunday. I'm clinging to the idea of spending all of Sunday writing. Then there's always Thanksgiving weekend. I'm locking myself in my room for at least two days of that weekend (or maybe locking myself out of my room, depending on where the vibe feels best). I can still catch up, I know I can, but god, am I tired.
I spent a good part of last night (after I got home) in weepy mode. I felt confined and angry and a little lost -- normally, I'd say this belonged in my other journal, but it was writing-related. I seriously resented my job last night, because I felt like it was taking away the best of me and leaving me with little to spend on the best parts of my life. I want nothing more than to blow off work for about a week and retreat somewhere with a laptop, some music, and a food supply. And maybe a bathroom. Feh.
Okay, so, an excerpt. This is from this morning's writing:
The room was empty. Directly overhead, however, was a brilliant light shining from something that looked vaguely like a dentist's lamp. It was angled just precisely to keep from blinding her, but instead held her in a circle of light surrounded by shadow. There was a short humming from above, and the worlds crashed through her once more. She felt a deep pulling sensation within her, as if her veins were being slowly drained dry, but she could see no needles in her skin. She received a glimpse of each of the worlds that slammed through her mind: a green forest, remarkably like the one from her dreams of the infant; a dimly lit cavern, filled with humanoid creatures perhaps about three feet tall -- her first thought was of goblins; a windswept hill where tall, exotic figures dressed in colors brilliant beyond describing danced in a circle around a fire; a rocky beach where beautiful dark-eyed women, wearing only their milk-white skins, chased one another and laughed like children. Then the visions grew stranger still, showing her scenes similar to the first ones, but regularly interspersed with images of frightening creatures: tall, thin, gray creatures with empty black eyes, many-tentacled horrors menacing a small village, a hulking brute with what looked like blood running down the sides of its face gnawing what looked sickeningly like a human leg -- each vision took a part of her, pulling it away like prying treasure from cold, dead fingers.
She screamed and screamed until a voice somewhere overhead said, "Enough." When she opened her eyes, she realized she was no longer alone in the room. Just outside of the circle of light, there stood a tall, slender figure whose face she could not see. It reached for her with a hand that was mind-bendingly wrong. The fingers were too long, too slender, had too many joints. It looked more like a pale spider than a hand. She shrank back from the hand, her body trembling violently.
