Producing crap

Can I just say that I am REALLY not wanting to write a talk right now?
Because I really don't want to write a talk right now. And seeing as I still have 12 hours before actually GIVING said talk... HA! TIME TO BLOG!

Oh, the joys of teenage social life.
That speaks for itself.

I am finding that at the current moment, I'm not having any strong opinions. Which is weird, because I usually have some very strong opinion eating at the back of my mind- or, you know, 12- but right now, I don't have very many. Ok, yeah, I do, but not all can be stated in such a public way. (Or nonpublic, depends on who looks).

All I can say is, I'm freaking FRUSTRATED. I've hit a wall with most of my writing. *bangs head on table*

Can I just say that my muses are VERY fickle things? Because I tend to get hit with writers block pretty often. Or it's not even writers block, it's just that whatever I write comes out as CRAP. And how are you supposed to be happy when all you are producing is crap? (if I was a twelve year old boy, I would probably laugh at that statement. Or, you know, a really tired seventeen-year-old girl, coughcough). I mean, seriously.

It's strange just how much it can effect daily life. Today, while I was lying backwards on my bed, staring at my ceiling fan (my usual brainstorming position), I grew quite depressed as my thoughts became more and more repetitive. So, I sat up, broke out Windows2000 crappycomp (yeah! with blue nailpolish spilt on the top, OH YEAH!) and read over some stuff that I've written in the last month or so... and nearly cried. I've rewritten the thing eight different times, with VERY different ideas, criterias, point of views... and it's still crappy. I can't find the right combination of events to make up a good story. So I keep rewriting it, and rewriting it, and rewriting it... and every way it ends up, it just isn't right.

So what do I do? I go back to previously written things. And dislike them. So what do I do? Since I can't come up with anything completely original, I start rewriting things I've already written, turning all of that stuff into even crappier stuff. And now I have like 5 150+ pages works with at least five drafts each, and it's clogging my computer, and my mind, and my soul. I can't FOCUS. It's took much chaos!

I CAN'T HANDLE BEING AN ARTIST!

So I soon found myself at walmart. And then I found myself DRAGGING myself through Walmart. And then I found myself staring at nail polish, on the verge of tears, because I'm so distraught. And then I found myself feeling very foolish for being so upset. And then I came home, looked at first aforementioned piece, then snuggled with my cat and took a nap because I felt so sad.

When you're producing nothing but crap, it's hard to write a talk on being charitable.