"Into this Universe, and Why not knowing,
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing."
-- Verse 29, The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
New calendar page today, so new poem. That verse is somewhat painfully appropriate to my own life, it sometimes seems.
As you may have noted, I did in fact put a counter on this page. Should be interesting. I wonder to what extent I have to allow for people (other than myself) viewing the page multiple times/day.
Have to revise my Statement of Purpose for grad school applications today, and choose 30-40 pages of prose to send out with the applications. I am not looking forward to the latter, as so much of my writing is either erotica or sf/f/h, neither of which seems to win the hearts of admissions committees. It almost tempts me to write a new, strictly mainstream, angstful story, just for the applications. Something nice and bleak, in which half the characters die and in which the other half lead either terribly boring or depressingly bleak lives. Not quite my style.
Also tonight is the funeral service for Martha's (co-worker mentioned several entries ago) daughter. And after that is folksing, which I have a feeling I'm really going to need. It has been a very stressful week.
later -- Paged through some more diaries on-line, and was thinking about something Kevin said to me last night. There have been some semi-heavy emotional things going on in my life lately, (don't worry, am coping okay), and he asked whether I was going to write about them in here. (Funny, he's never even read this diary -- if he kept one, you can be damn sure I'd be reading it. :-) Anyway, I told him that I didn't usually let the diary get that personal, and then he asked why I was keeping a diary, if I was editing so much out. So I gave him some answers (to talk back to my fans without writing individually daily to each one; to keep something new and changing on these pages to hold people's interest; to vent; to practice writing...).
And now I'm wondering whether that's enough for the people reading this. Whether you all really enjoy hearing about my stresses and frustrations, what I had for dinner and what books I've read, all without any of the really juicy stuff that you can find in some journals. I'm not asking for a bunch of responses saying, 'yes!' -- I already know that a lot of you are really sweet and would quickly/gladly reassure me. I'm just thinking out loud, wondering what a reader gets from a journal like this -- such a limited/slanted view into somebody else's life. I try to make it more interesting/worthwhile, with recipes and useful links to people and things I enjoy and occasional new poetry and stories...but you know, I don't think I'd bother reading this journal unless I knew me. :-) Of course, that should be taken with the knowledge that I don't read any on-line journals...