(no subject)
Mar. 3rd, 2006 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shamanicshayminYou know, it occured to me how effing impossible it is for me to write creatively when I'm angry. Or if I DO write (though rare), let's see what the chances are that it doesn't suck, juvenile mind fuckery (0.00001% likely, but it's there), or bloody corpses. Or superficial wangst & rage, which is most likely. That, and the "writing sucks" part too.
I guess one of the reasons I haven't written forever is because all I do is let the little things get me nowadays.
Mom says it's due to IRL stress, and that it started creeping on to me online, which was why it was easy for me to get so snappity. Could explain some things I guess, it came so subtle. But I'm tired of this. What normally would bug me for 5 seconds before I brush it off and go on has me on a seething rampage storming my thoughts for the entire, effing school day. Thus, leaving me all burnt-out over what Calm*Puri would blink as nothing and refusing to do anything at home, and if someone bugs me to do chores like do the dishes or walk the dog or something, well... beware the ugly glance.
Maybe I got this from my Dad, too... I inherited his temper, which took years of controlling because you could look at me as someone who was normally calm-natured. (Which I am--I like to be seen as a mellow person. *nod*) Like, Dad could hate something. (Or someone...) Regular thing, right? But see, when Dad holds a passion for something, be it something he adores or despises (especially the latter), he doesn't let go. Like, talk about say, Scarlet Letter. I mean, I still don't like the book. :P But Dad, he wouldn't just hate Scarlet Letter. He HATES it. He'd moan about it for hours and start begging the gods why the hell Nathaniel Hawthorne had to exist with his "pretentious, purple" style, even goes as far to say, "Oh, he just thinks he's so high and mighty, doesn't he? I should talk to your teacher about the junk she lets you kids read..." Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. And it's actually funny listening to Dad moan about the book, particulary when you agree said book sucks anyway. But sometimes, especially at most serious situations, he crosses the line and carries it too far... especially when it's people he's got a beef with. That's when it gets scary: he has grudges against that something or someone, and he never lets go.
Dad could turn a pile of marbles into boulders crushing me from the weight. All I have to do is ask him for help on homework or something, and he'd make questions that have NOTHING to do with the assignment, like why am I sketching the rooms of the suite from Poe's The Masque of Red Death on a GREEN sheet of paper when OMGgetawhitesheetofpaper while I'm sitting there thinking, "Um, my teacher told me I'm supposed to draw the rooms on that paper..." Then he threatens to go after my teacher when I told him I was supposed to finish the assignment by March 1st and I thought the next day was February 29th, which was why I hadn't started it yet (and it was MY fault for not paying attention to the time...), and I'd tried to talk to him, but he'd just scream at me and violently cut me off when I try to explain. Oh, and he makes getting markers a big deal too. Markers. I tell him I couldn't find anything, but he'd scream "OMGWHEREISITLOOKFORIT" and he'd yell at me going "OMGIT'STOOLATEFORGOINGTOTHESTOREIT'SMIDNIGHT" and... he just doesn't listen to me, no matter HOW much it'll clear his... misconceptions. Not to mention calm him down.
What do you get from this? A crying, sobbing Puri remembering why the HELL she never asks Dad for help on her homework anymore, despite me being NICE and hoping we could bond a little, 'cause it's an author we both adored, aka EDGAR FRIGGIN' ALLAN POE.
All Dad had to do was be pissed off.
I don't want to be the person Dad is. I don't want my rage to overcome everything about me, so it'd cost my friends, my writing, my reputation... I'm lost if I keep getting angry. Absolutely lost. It never solves anything. This, I learned the hard way several years too late. I don't need this same bitch-slap to smack me even worse second time around.
I guess one of the reasons I haven't written forever is because all I do is let the little things get me nowadays.
Mom says it's due to IRL stress, and that it started creeping on to me online, which was why it was easy for me to get so snappity. Could explain some things I guess, it came so subtle. But I'm tired of this. What normally would bug me for 5 seconds before I brush it off and go on has me on a seething rampage storming my thoughts for the entire, effing school day. Thus, leaving me all burnt-out over what Calm*Puri would blink as nothing and refusing to do anything at home, and if someone bugs me to do chores like do the dishes or walk the dog or something, well... beware the ugly glance.
Maybe I got this from my Dad, too... I inherited his temper, which took years of controlling because you could look at me as someone who was normally calm-natured. (Which I am--I like to be seen as a mellow person. *nod*) Like, Dad could hate something. (Or someone...) Regular thing, right? But see, when Dad holds a passion for something, be it something he adores or despises (especially the latter), he doesn't let go. Like, talk about say, Scarlet Letter. I mean, I still don't like the book. :P But Dad, he wouldn't just hate Scarlet Letter. He HATES it. He'd moan about it for hours and start begging the gods why the hell Nathaniel Hawthorne had to exist with his "pretentious, purple" style, even goes as far to say, "Oh, he just thinks he's so high and mighty, doesn't he? I should talk to your teacher about the junk she lets you kids read..." Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. And it's actually funny listening to Dad moan about the book, particulary when you agree said book sucks anyway. But sometimes, especially at most serious situations, he crosses the line and carries it too far... especially when it's people he's got a beef with. That's when it gets scary: he has grudges against that something or someone, and he never lets go.
Dad could turn a pile of marbles into boulders crushing me from the weight. All I have to do is ask him for help on homework or something, and he'd make questions that have NOTHING to do with the assignment, like why am I sketching the rooms of the suite from Poe's The Masque of Red Death on a GREEN sheet of paper when OMGgetawhitesheetofpaper while I'm sitting there thinking, "Um, my teacher told me I'm supposed to draw the rooms on that paper..." Then he threatens to go after my teacher when I told him I was supposed to finish the assignment by March 1st and I thought the next day was February 29th, which was why I hadn't started it yet (and it was MY fault for not paying attention to the time...), and I'd tried to talk to him, but he'd just scream at me and violently cut me off when I try to explain. Oh, and he makes getting markers a big deal too. Markers. I tell him I couldn't find anything, but he'd scream "OMGWHEREISITLOOKFORIT" and he'd yell at me going "OMGIT'STOOLATEFORGOINGTOTHESTOREIT'SMIDNIGHT" and... he just doesn't listen to me, no matter HOW much it'll clear his... misconceptions. Not to mention calm him down.
What do you get from this? A crying, sobbing Puri remembering why the HELL she never asks Dad for help on her homework anymore, despite me being NICE and hoping we could bond a little, 'cause it's an author we both adored, aka EDGAR FRIGGIN' ALLAN POE.
All Dad had to do was be pissed off.
I don't want to be the person Dad is. I don't want my rage to overcome everything about me, so it'd cost my friends, my writing, my reputation... I'm lost if I keep getting angry. Absolutely lost. It never solves anything. This, I learned the hard way several years too late. I don't need this same bitch-slap to smack me even worse second time around.
