Tags: words

three words.

Incomprehensible.

EVERYBODY WHO IS CURRENTLY READING THIS, LJ OR NO: Give me a word. I do not want an ordinary word, I want an extraordinary word which I can actually utilize. My favorite word is desideratum, but where the can I use that outside of haiku? (See, it has 5 syllables.) Look in my userinfo to see if it's a possilbility that I already have the word you're giving me. Consider this a Christmas/holiday/whatever present because it really, really will be. You are thanked beyond all possible measure. *worships* *annoints your feet* *bows down and says random things in a chant-like voice* You're beautiful, I tell you.

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three words.

Riving and revolving. (Words, words, use them.)

I like being independent and I have never had any desire for someone to be dependable. In fact, the funny thing is that I generally get bored with the dependable people. Dependability, to me, has almost always felt like predictability. It is much more fun to be lost in spontaneity! It feels like I am stuck in a Grand Canyon-sized quagmire around here. Cliche as it is: I really want to get out. Sure, there are negativities abounding here. But my issue is that I feel as though I am apart, possibly the cause, of the miasma. It is much easier for me to take the blame because I am, frankly, much more used to getting into trouble here than others are. There is too much time for me to waste my words on poetry which feels much more like malediction than it has at other times. (Maybe it is not necessarily poetry, but it is words strung together in a way that resembles it.)
      No, I do not necessarily feel like I have recidivated into what feels much more comfortable. What it feels like, now, is like I have gone through a cycle and exhausted my resources. Look at me, I have been scrambling with dictionaries using someone else's words to make up my own feeble sentences. My typical elocution has become monotone and I bore myself much the way the others are boring me. The thing about the women in my family is that boredom is a dangerous opportunity. We become angry drunks without any alcohol to spark us on. If you give me too much time to think, I start to do because thinking expends either 1) too much energy, or 2) too many thoughts which I may need to utilize at another, more appropriate, time. I have become inured to this frustration and breaking the habit is going to be like quitting smoking (it's really easy, I assure you, I've done it a thousand times!) I will come out of this perfectly okay, but I will also have done some things which I will not like to admit to get there. (The confession is really: No, I do not care.)