(no subject)

I really do have a love/hate relationship with writing.
One I really get going in something, the words just start flowing from my fingers...it's almost a rush.
But God, do I have trouble getting started. I loathe starting on writing stuff. It just drives me crazy trying to think of ways to begin a piece.
Segue to the film paper I have to write. I have a great thesis, supporting details up the wazoo, and everything else I need to write it.
Except the damned beginning! I can't start it, and if I can't start it and finish it, I'll get an incomplete in film. Which would really, really suck...not that it matters, as I'm already accepted into Simon's Rock, but I still want to do a good job on the paper. I can't stand to do a half job for things I really care about...and this paper on Stanley Kubrick is definitely a subject I care about.
*sigh*...I suppose I -will- get to work on it tomorrow night. Writing this internal monologue out really did seem to make me feel better.

(no subject)

Hah! I found A Farewell to Kings...and to think that I thought that CD had been stolen with the rest of the first collection...

(no subject)

Half a page done...damn, I'm pathetic.

(no subject)

Well, fuck. My CD burner is destroyed.
Someone apparantly came into my room whilst I was gone (probably mother), and in doing so brushed up against the eject button on the drive. On the way out, they then accidentially knocked the now-protruding tray off, and attempted to force it back in.
This caused a small, but crucial gear to go missing, and now the burner is useless. Dam nit all to hell.

(no subject)

Hee hee, pseudo-Zen koans in #megazeux...