Becka (miss_rynn) wrote,

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Maybe I'm only supposed to be getting five hours of sleep a night, and it's only my body which doesn't realise it. In any case, my mind is a wash with ideas. Creative ideas. I don't seem to have time to write them out or develope them, but I want to hold onto them regardless. It might be hopelessly geeky of me to keep thinking up ideas for RPGs, but I need an outlet and RPGs are an easy target.

I can tell that the PhD is going to kill me slowly, from the inside out, like a cancer. Forgive my melodrama, but I'm in one of those moments of absolute clarity. I know that if I am prevented from creating, from imagining, from telling stories or drawing illusions out of my mind that I begin to grow dead and still and cold. The degree is making me colder, harsher, less able to put up with other people's shit.

When I was younger, when I was just entering adolescence, I was a very angry girl. In time I dealt with my anger, and was just left with sadness. Now I feel the anger returning, and I don't think that I like it.

I am desperate - I must create. I don't want to give in to that anger again.
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