So as I was checking my flist today I found this
incredibly insightful (flocked, though, sorry!) post of scribblemoose
's. Thank you, Scribbles, for waking me
up, at least. I never post here anymore. WHY DON'T I POST ANYMORE?
Well, HI, GUYS. DID YOU MISS ME?
Let's see. Exam stress is perched on my shoulder (actually, I shouldn't say 'perched' - it's more like a two-ton elephant breathing down my neck). If I fail the math exam, I will almost definitely fail the year (exams are worth far too much of my mark, goddamnit!). I'm studying, but I'm studying so hard for math and science that I have even glanced at Spanish, Japanese, French, or English.
BUT! On the bright side, NINETY-TWO PER CENT ON MY VERY IMPORTANT TRIGONOMETRY TEST. THAT'S RIGHT, I MADE THAT TEST MY BITCH. I BET ITS ASS IS STILL SORE FROM THAT POUNDING.
Okay, I'm done, I promise. I'm treating myself to sushi tonight as a reward, though. Maybe that day I was channeling my dad's side of the family... (For those who don't know, my uncle and aunt and both scientists. One of their sons is a biologist and he just married a chemist. The other son is a video game/robotics/computer program designer. They are breeding all the stupid out of our family.)
The annoying thing is, most of my mistakes were mostly from rounding too early on in my calculations. It tipped my answer just slightly
FANDOM. What is happening in my fandoms, these days? I haven't been posting any of the stuff I've been writing due to my serious self-esteem issues. scribblemoose
, and others, are just so freaking good that it makes me feel so inadequate. I read something of theirs and after I've finished sighing wistfully over it I begin to wail about how PITY ME, I WILL NEVER CATCH UP. OH NOES!
When I really should just suck it up and post.
If people like it, great
. If not, life goes on. My friends aren't going to hate me or laugh at me if I write something shitty, and if they do they aren't worth knowing anyway.
I'm not writing for other people (well, maybe my dad, since when he doesn't like something he's incredibly tactful about it, and when he does he gushes like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl - it's adorable) and it isn't my job. There shouldn't be pressure. I started writing because I love
it, and I think I've become too concerned with what people think of my stuff. There are always
going to be better writers than me, and there are always going to be better writers than them. I've got to stop worrying. It's just one of those things that easier said than done.
I AM SORRY FOR THE TL;DR. I CAN'T HELP IT. IT'S LIKE FINGER DIARRHEA. TT_TT