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2 min read Writing Humbuggery

The Time is Now

I know I must have officially marked the beginning of my thesis endeavor, but I need to re-mark it now.

I officially dove into Hedwig's coif tonight, having spent the last five or so hours at my computer doing Web research, scene analysis, thinking, writing, some more research, getting overwhelmed, chilling out, visualizing my project, and discovering new things. And I have to admit I'm having a lot of fun.

The day didn't start out that way, though.I tried to go back to sleep and managed only another hour. So, with my throat burning up and having only gotten 90 minutes of sleep, I considered calling in sick to work. I decided to go. But I left the house in a fog for reasons that would hound me throughout the day.

The world was hard, and I wanted to have no part of it. Without a choice, however, I managed the throngs of people going in every direction but ahead. I was among them, certainly not knowing in which direction to move. And I couldn't get out of it. I was looking for something but was left only chasing ghosts.

Of whom or what is more clear to me now than it was in my earlier haze. When they came into fruition, it was with a delicate hand I grasped at them. But they stayed out of my reach. And I was left alone wondering how long I would be searching for, craving, their feel. But it's their touch I really wanted. And it's the touch I can't have yet. It was hard to look at people, as I saw that they all had found what they needed. And held what I wanted.

Through their smiles and laughter, they seemed so much more whole than I and it was this I could not deal with. I just wanted to cast my eyes downward, not wanting to face that which I could not see for myself. This longing rings so loudly inside me, screaming to fade. Leading me in every which direction but where I need to be. Which is within me. It's 2:30 and I'm afraid to not sleep. I want the candles next to me to burn all night. And I want to produce forever. I want to understand Plato's Symposium. I want to nail Hedwig's gender trouble. I want to nail mine. And I want to explode onto the page with a force so hard that I have to catch my breath. And I want to sleep.

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