My Freshman Fall

I have not been a good blogger lately. I have not blogged about my daily events, I haven't kept you virgin readers posted on the scandalous ordeals of my life. I regret to announce to you all that I am sinking into a writer's block. Things have happened, days have gone by, mini-holidays and decisions have been made, and still, I can't find the words. Instead, I listen to Tim Gunn drawl and Uli The-German-Flake drone about her beaches. Uli's damn beaches. Things have changed, whether I wanted them to or not, and the change of school is the driving force behind it.

Like it or not, I've been forced to become a bit more independent of Dobbl's guidance. I've had to become a person who is able to push even when they're feeling pushed. It was "make it work" time. So I made it work. I worry now, that I'm over-the-top. That I've become predictably unpredictable. I feel like I have departed from my true self, come to the other side of the spectrum, where I'm acting out and completing a formula for Fun. I've started to ignore my depressions. Instead of being sad, I'm just being "lazy." I'm afraid to call anyone to talk. I hear everyone saying how sick they are of being pressured for advice, so I've stopped trying. I've stopped trying to get medication for the lows. And especially, I've started trying to impress everyone. I've grown in my writing, departing from the four-stanza format.

Though, one thing that hasn't changed in my writing, is my lack of discretion. I can't write a blog about being upset without mentioning why I'm upset. I can't be candid with reasoning. On Poetry Night, with every word, I'm bearing my soul. You made me write these words, this happened and this is the aftermath, this is me being honest with not only you, but with myself.

I count my ability to write as one of those Thank-You-Mother-Superior blessings. And mostly, I thank Jason. He influenced me to start writing, so without that, who knows where I might be today? Dead, I'd imagine. And now that it's becoming difficult, I worry. Where has it gone? Is it going to come back? Talent, like a stray dog. Please come back to me.