13 January 2003 - 12:58 am
televised lives.

all right. well. classes start today. not "school" because if school started today it'd be high school or something. classes.

i have to switch my schedule to reflect that i'm taking acting iv, stanislavski, advanced playwriting, drama lit ii, and global enlightenment. this i'll do tomorrow. after the grind begins again, which i'm fully looking forward to. i'm glad i returned to campus when i did - although i wish there were less abrasive people on this floor. they're rather aggravating, at times, but it's easily avoided. and i enjoy the relative calm of this room, now, and the energy (if you can call it that) that the "regulars" have left behind. so far it's been a place of non-drama, and i'm striving to keep it that way. i need to sleep, eventually, but i think it might be a little while in coming. unless i force myself to do so. although why do i feel the sudden need to go to bed earlier than before, when i functioned just fine from 3am to 8am, etc. my first class isn't until noon but i need to get some add/drop slips. to alter.

//

i've been writing a bit more. the ebb&flow of whatever energy inspires my creativity is shifting, and i'm thrust back into writing with a new zest for short prose. although i'm looking forward to playwriting, so i can really delve into a full, lengthy one-act. i hope the class is beneficial. which i'm sure it will be.

the same sort of worry plagues me still, though, with a genuine fear of inspiration springing from depression, or from misery of some sort. and still a tattered obsession waves a nasty flag in the winter wind. it's only mid-january. superficial cares and woes, thinking about doing something a little more physical. mark's said that he's going to go to the gym more often. i'm thinking about trying to do it, but such a complex about what-to-do or how to even begin, and i'd be dependent on him to help me figure out the dynamic of the place. i'm sure he walks in and shrugs on the atmosphere of the place like a bathrobe, seeing as he's familiar with it, but i'd feel out-of-place and feeling like one of those dreams that you realise you're naked in.

really hot cider in an oversized blue mug. i could write a porn. that would be fun. one or two lines of attractive dialogue, and then many moans and groans. there was a "very best of Maxim 2002" in the hallway. i picked it up mostly for laughs. i don't find many of the women in it to be very attractive ... i think it's quite possible that it's because they're trying too hard to be seen that way - the exhibitionist, i suppose, but it's not in the true style. it doesn't have any energy, any feeling. their faces are beautiful, but flat. and bored. maybe a glint of sexuality somewhere down inside, but nothing very intriguing. if there's emotion, if there's a defiance, then yes, i'd say that was attractive. but ... jeez. this is just boring. i find the scientific articles more interesting than the pictures, and THAT has to say something. (shut up.)

maybe i'm just too picky. i remember wondering if i was gay, and i think i thought that because whenever i was in close proximity or when there was actual contact, even hand to hand, to someone that i wished i was, or someone who i found handsome ... there was a pulse, a feeling of sudden jump in my stomach, and a depression, a sadness that shot through my limbs and weighed me down. i would find myself next to them and wondering ... if i was to hug this guy, if this were to happen, if we were alone, would i? i didn't know. but it's not like that - it never was sexual in any way. (i apologise for those of you who don't want to know this - just scroll past it) it's just a feeling of ... replacing them as a paternal urge. i never had a real father, honestly, someone who cared about me ... and i wish that i could have that with someone who isn't afraid of physicality, someone with whom i could transgress the physical stigma of "gay" and "straight" - it's all you can do to hold yourself back from human contact, when you've been starved, and suddenly all you are with is girls who like to hug every two seconds, it's jarring.

anna had to give me hug lessons, even. how-to-hug. before anything happened, really. i wish i'd made myself clearer on my "decision," as it were. it's just ... leaving it alone. like i said, it's none of my business. and so there's no enmity or anger or even hatred, it's just ... trying to leave it all alone, trying to see what happens in the long run when i'm not there to influence it.

i guess that's all i really have to say. (and there's lesbian softcore porn on the television right now. it's kind of interesting.)

hm. i should've added a disclaimer to the top of this entry, saying how it was "all about sex : the procreational urges of one "sebastian enoch harper" otherwise known as _______ ______." but i didn't, so ... oh well.

good night.

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