Saturday, March 12, 2005

At times I wish I were a better writer.

Or a better speaker.

I lean towards the melodramatic, the cliches. I'm a cornball; I have a genuine inclination to think in age-old adages. And most of the time, my pedestrian forms of expression suffice. But I'm facing certain situations that demand more eloquence. And I lack the words.

Is this what I get for being a literature major? Maybe I should've embraced creative writing, despite the fact that I've dismissed it for being an imaginary major.

God. I wanted to say, "Many claim that practice makes perfect. Maybe it's true in this case." But then I realized that's just utilising another trite aphorism. I'm locked in a cycle of my own perfectionism. If I didn't care about originality or authenticity, I wouldn't mind this continuous rotation.

But I do.

So I'll continue to bite my tongue when I want to shout the plethora of truisms that pop into my mind. And I'll be worried that I'm not communicating my true feelings or intentions. Here I am, just another person struggling to convey my humanity in an intelligent way to the world.

I'm not a complete failure. I'm expressive in other manners. Personable? Check. Compassionate? Sure. Empathetic? Yes. I don't want to dive into a pool of self-pity. I don't need that. But I'm merely frustrated at what I feel to be my major inadequacy. I can analyze myself for days; unfortunately, I'm good at recognizing my shortcomings. Criticism seems to be the only skill I've spent time developing in regards to my academic career.

"And now for something completely different." I've been watching Red Dwarf for the past few hours. I'm almost finished with Season I. I'm on duty tonight and tomorrow, so I feel somewhat trapped in New. While there are other people around, I feel like sitting and eating Armenian string cheese while laughing at Lister. I'm a bit co-dependent at times; this is why I like living in the dorms where people are constantly providing forms of entertainment. However, I often regress to my childhood habits of watching TV for long stretches of time. I'm alone... without being alone. Which is fine- Max lent me Seasons I-IV of Red Dwarf, as well as four DVDs of the Prisoner. Between my mounds of schoolwork, my little side trips around Cali, and my RA duties, I'll be quite occupied during this break.

Gazpacho Soup. I love it.

I want to be on a plane. But I'll cope with my wanderlust and resign myself to a thrilling time in Southern California.