Don't forget to be the way you are.

I have not given up. I did, however, forget to take into account my occasionally volatile mental state, impromptu open mic nights and the high comfort levels that my bed provide, amongst other things.

I saw my senior tutor on Thursday. Her once reassuring claims of "Don't worry, I will get you into university" are no longer so reassuring; I wasn't buying it. She did say that I could be scratched from the exam if it came down to it, though, so, despite the copious number of tears shed from my eye-sockets, at least something small came out of it. No staying on at King Ed's though. No, sirree. I have no idea what the next year holds for me.

The hardest thing about creative writing for me (well, aside from the self-doubt) is the feeling that I'm trying too hard . I don't want to be like Anthony Kiedis' most recent attempts at lyricism. This genius can be found in such songs as Death of a Martian - either I'm missing something beautiful or that man comes up with a bunch of tosh. I was happy with him singing about sex and girls and camaraderie and Hillel Slovak.

Sorry, slight what-the-Hell-happened-to-the-Red-Hot-Chili-Peppers? tangent there. Back to the point. My vocabulary is pretty decent and Dictionary.com is probably one of my most-visited websites (I probably shouldn't broadcast that I take such a keen interest in learning new words and exact definitions of words I already know) but I still feel slightly false when I use more concise yet more obscure words to convey a point. It feels a little self-indulgent and I'm aware that I could sound pretentious.

Perhaps I just need to stop over-thinking everything.


Sexy: Compassion. Vegetarians and vegans in particular get Brownie points with me.
Unsexy: Men who shout often obscene things at me from their cars. I don't know what they expect to achieve. Perhaps they hope that one day I will turn around and scream "TAKE ME NOW!"