Is there no way out of the mind?

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

-Sylvia Plath

I have so many things going on in my head at the moment that it’s hard to focus on just one and try to write it out. Every time I sit down and try, I jump from one thing to the next and whatever I write ends up a mashing of several conflicting ideas and thoughts (although, I’m sure there is a common theme). It’s ciaos right now. I fear that if I don’t get it all organized and out, it will consume me. So I’m trying…

I desperately need school to start up again. I need structured thought. I need to be occupied with tap dancing and German and thoughts of literature–epistolary and picaresque novels, romanticism, transcendentalism, contemporary literary theory, post modern deconstructionism and beyond. I’m ready, bring it on.

If I’m not careful, everything I write is going to end up being a stream of consciousness. Which might not be that bad, I suppose…

Where are Virgina Woolf and David Foster Wallace when I need them?

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