Foucault = Inspiration

What do I want to write? I know I'd like to write some sort of edgy novel ... a bit of science fiction / fantasy that indulges my dark side. But is it in me to write that today? Probably not. I want to run away with Foucault's idea that we believe in so much that boils down to rhetoric. Do I KNOW that there are billions of people in the world from personal experience? No. I haven't counted. But it seems logical and WHY WOULD THEY LIE?? so I believe it. Do I know that the world is round because I have sailed around the globe? No. But the argument has been made well and I have been raised to believe in it, so I have no reason to question it. But it seems to me that many opportunities for fiction lie in the questioning of these assumptions. Do I know that the stars above me at night are actually there? No. But I have been taught to believe that they are so I do.

Furthermore, can I really be sure that characters in a work of fiction do not exist? I suppose it is the work of an author to convince his audience that the possibility exists. Fiction's role, rather than to confine the mind to an idea from childhood, is to allow it to accept a reality outside of these confines. It holds the task of setting up confines that are, oftentimes, contrary to those of reality. An author must confine his reader in the span of a few hundred pages, rather than the time allowed by a society (a lifetime).

I love rhetoric.

Pissed off with no other forum

okay so here i am trapping myself into the box of WORD OF THE DAY and i can't seem to find any inspiration. and i tell myself, hey, maybe i need a different format so i try something trite but still engaging - iambic pentameter. yes, i'm rusty but it gives me some ground underneath my feet to start from. but i fail at that - and not just because the words are overused and overplayed....but because i have no inspiration. and then my roommate's puppy wakes up downstairs and climbs all the way upstairs and whines and whines and i try to turn my music up louder but that just impedes the writing process because i cannot hear my thoughts. and then marley - the puppy - begins to bark louder and louder every second. and i can hear her over my music. so i yell. louder and louder every second. and i turn off the music thinking she's stopped. but she starts right back up. and i yell again to no avail. so i go downstairs and i yell at a stupid defenseless dog because she's getting older and she still pees and poops and whines and some part of me expects her to be an adult NOW. and i don't really know what cesar milan the dog whisperer would say about dog development but it's a legitimate need in my mind for this dog to shut the fuck up even if her biological clock hasn't quite made it past 3 o'clock. and somehow, after yelling at her to go back downstairs and slamming the door, i return to the silence i've been craving. but coming back up the stairs to my room and my computer i realize i cannot calm down enough to stick to a structured piece of crap poem ... no i want to hear the furious cracking of my fingers upon the keyboard. part of me wants to break the keyboard by typing too loud because everything is piling up. and then my phone makes it's doodly-doo sound that is so ironic in my current mood and i embrace my anger. i need to acknowledge the fact that i'm mad. it's not just a little dog because i know for a fact that the first thing i wanted to do when i woke up this morning was let her out and cuddle her before i went to school. (don't really know why i didn't to be honest - probably a time issue). i'm mad at my friends, my job, the irritating blending of the two. i'm mad at money problems. i'm mad at the economy. i'm mad at the fact that i wasted (though in a better mood i would talk that away - say some crap about the time teaching me something and making me a better person) three years of my life studying a subject i had no interest in aside from the fact that i could do it with my eyes closed. i'm mad that i wasted four or five (i don't really know for sure and to go back and reason out the timeline would interrupt my rant) years of my life with a man that i full well knew was no good for me, forsaking my family and cutting off ties that HE told me to - even if he didn't always vocalize it he was a manipulating bastard. and i'm mad at myself for even bringing this into the post, as the real issue right now is the fact that stupid immature idiotic people at work are making life a living hell for a woman who is my second mother. a damn girl who i was at one point dumb enough to let into my life and call my roommate is a conniving bitch and she and her propaganda machine are trying their damndest to get my Carol kicked out of a job she's held for five years without any complaints from customers or associates anywhere. and then all the sudden this shit hits the fan and she's at the brink of tears because she's so depressed with the situation and the sudden turn of events. and she cannot stand to be there unless i'm the head cashier on duty because everyone else is just two-faced and backstabbing. and now i'm crying because i'm probably on the brink of my period (TMI? IDFC!!) and i can't find my inner voice and i can't find my chi i can't calm down because i can't fucking handle the machinations of this world and i don't know where i'm going here. i've got an awesome fiance (it's amazing how much the wrong guy will teach you about the right one) and he knows the parties involved (allies, enemies, bullshit, etc.) and he's mad too. but he didn't see her bottom lip tremble. he didn't see the tears welling up in her eyes. he didn't see this damn place crumble to the ground when the morals that held it up were torn out from underneath it. this place used to be home.

Update

A few quick things.

I now have 5 blogs and really need to consolidate.  Granted THIS ONE has not been used in almost 3 years, but ... there's some value to looking back every so often.  Well, if you aren't in my inner circle or somehow the grapevine hasn't grown into your side of the patch, the last blog entry was pretty much the sign of things to come.  Charles and I fought, and less than 2 months later, I cheated on him and found my escape.  I'm not proud of cheating ... but I had gotten to a point where I was under his spell - MIND CONTROL - and didn't have the strength to do it the right way.  If you can't tell from that last entry, I was a bit brainwashed.  All these doubts kept coming up RE: major, relationship, life and I kept pushing them down at his prodding.  I guilt-tripped myself because he taught me that was what I should do.  That I should be ashamed of the way that I am.  That I should be somebody else.  It makes me sick to read this stuff.

Especially now that I've got Jason.  He's the most amazing man I've ever met and there is no end to the wonderful things I could say about him.  He proposed to me on Christmas Eve underneath the Christmas tree and I couldn't stop crying I was so excited.  Even now, weeks later, I think about our future together and get teary-eyed.

Which is a totally different reaction than when Charles proposed to me.  We'd been together for six months and we made a trip to the Kokomo mall and we were standing outside so he could smoke (I think).  I turn my head and when I look back he's got this ring and asks me very nonchalantly.  (It was almost as if it wouldn't have mattered to him if I'd said no.  It just didn't seem like a big deal to him.)  At this point, he's already made clear his disgust for my family and almost came to blows with my brother, David.  And it's only been six months.  I really don't know what made me stay with this man or say yes.  Probably the same thing that made me say "I love you" when he told me the words weren't a "big deal" when we'd only been dating for a week.

I don't know where it came from but there was this voice in my head somewhere telling me to stay with him.  Telling me that even if it felt wrong, I should follow it until I had indesputable proof that I shouldn't be with him.  I don't know...around March 2006, when I wrote the last post ... or perhaps earlier, when I asked myself "Have you ever wondered where you'd be if you'd made one different decision?"  (Referring to Joel.  Wow, I wonder what would have happened.  He was a hot piece of ass.)... I fell completely out of love with him.  I don't know if I was ever truly IN LOVE or if I just believed I was because he told me I was.

Anyway, that's it.  I've got to work out how to consolidate my blogs.  Too many.

Brevity is not my forte.

Sometimes I amuse myself with surfing over to dictionary.com and choosing a month of "word of the day" entries. I take these words and arrange them into a bit of creative writing. A short story, a blurb about life in general, whatever feels right. Perhaps it's a bit too structured for creative writing ... but it exercises my brain and gets my words flowing. I may go back every so often to rewrite the piece with less obscure words ... after all, one only uses words like "quotidian" and "bivouac" if they're showing off. ...Or maybe I'll keep them as they are and adopt this style of writing in the Next Great American Novel. (It seemed worthy of capitalization.) Delusions of grandeur, anyone?