It’s called an essay ‘cause you keep trying

by LP

Winter Break f*cking BLOWS. There. I said it.

I had so many plans: since I was going to be stuck at home, I’d finish up stuff that was (over)due, prepare my exams, finish up two zines, do the Sketchbook Project, dust off my bass and play it, hang out with peeps and write lots of blogs about, well, everything.

What did happen: I felt Le Tired and moderately to extremely blergh, had a nervy b right before Christmas (“The Nervy B Before Christmas” does have a certain ring to it), missed three exams and suffered from the worst case of writer’s PANIC. Which is not to be confused with writer’s block (I don’t believe in writer’s block) or writer’s indifference (a concept coined by S).

Ever the productive one, I did elevate procrastination to a whole new level during my bout of writer’s PANIC:

I read ALL THE ZINES and a couple of books about typography and now finally know how to distinguish a serif from a sans serif font. (Well, in theory. Please don’t test me on this.) I mistakenly ordered Frida Kahlo’s diary instead of her biography and am now well acquainted with her intimate thoughts. It’s really weird to read someone’s diary and it reminded me that I should burn some of mine again this summer. I pondered my relevance and asked people on twitter if they ever pondered their relevance. 5 people answered, the rest of my 220 followers just went

no1curr, Credit to whoever made it ~

I finished a zine and handscribbled 35 covers for another zine that still needs to be written, yelled at my mom a lot over the phone (yes, I’m an asshole), generally felt like no1curr except for people I wish wouldn’t curr (I’d disclaim, but you know, no1curr. Also: Eeyore is our King). I went to the hospital for a checkup, fell flat on my fucking face while getting up from one of those fancy reclining dialysis chairs resulting in extensive bruising, talked to my study advisor, emailed some teachers, read the entire internet, send whiney emails to the few people who actually still tolerate my shit, shaved off half my eyebrows (like you do), got invited to a classmates birthday party which probably means I’m cool, googled people from my past and told myself that no matter how much I think I suck/my life sucks, at least I’m not spending my days in Almere married to some douchenozzle (m/f).

And then I decided to stop being an annoying 14 year old whiney asshole, dragged my ass to Bergen aan Zee and wrote the first essay. The second essay is in the works and will be finished sometime between now and When It’s Finished, estimated time 6 o’clock in the morning. Encouragements are, as always, welcome! *goes to write*

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