I’ve had the tab for this draft open for about a day or so without having written a single word. Procrastinating even the things I enjoy doing, the things that I’ve set for myself, the things that normally serve as a reprieve in an otherwise unpleasant school day… I guess that just proves that I am Chilling and it is the End of the Semester. I’m done with my third year of classes. As usual, I have no idea how I got here. I just kept walking, handing assignments in, talking to friends, making new friends, eating too many snacks, etc.
It’s been a week of No Real Responsibilities, and I don’t think there’s been a single day where I slept before 5AM. The sun rises early these days, which is nice. I did do my taxes, pay summer tuition, confirm my enrolment, clean my room, cut my hair, and call my parents, so I wouldn’t consider myself unproductive. Somehow I still feel like I don’t have enough time.
Anyway, let’s talk about something else! I’ve been thinking about Writing recently. This sounds hilarious because ever since I could utilise Words, I have been haphazardly stringing them together to create stories and thought-processes. I’ve been thinking about writing more fiction since the end of the fall semester, but ended up too busy to get to it. I did write a few nonfictional fiction pieces that I used for various school projects (such as the dark), which is pretty fun. I essentially use some real-life experienced events and write them as if it happened to some fictional character that had more explicit emotions than I do, and more willingness to speak about said emotions, and then I write it from a first person perspective. It’s fiction because it’s not reality, but it’s nonfiction because it’s real. It’s also a bit more dramatized, and often comes wth a tidy ending, or attempt at a conclusion. (…) I guess all writing is like that, though.
I also “found” (the quotation marks are because I never lost it in the first place) a piece of writing from early 2017. In light of recent events I wanted to dig it up and rewrite it, but I feel like it may be doing my 16 year old self a disservice to write over it. I never named it, so the document in my drive is still called narrative 2.5. Again, it highlights the complexities in the way I saw myself as a young teenager and my extended family, who I never really had a relationship with at that point. Obviously things changed in 2019 when I went to China alone, but that’s not this story.
I’ve been thinking of dissecting the often hard to understand writing I did in high school. As I have always been a fairly emotionally repressed person, I tend to alway distance myself from my feelings by using Big Words, Long Phrases, overly flowery language, an attempt at scientific language, and a lot of thinly veiled extended metaphors. If not already painfully obvious, this renders most of my recreational writing to be like poems or puzzles. It’d be fun (for me) to try to take them apart, but I’m also afraid that I won’t find any answers… or maybe have to refamiliarize myself with some things I thought I could put away.
It’s quite late now, so I’ll end the post quickly before the sun rises. It’s supposed to snow today, which is very funny to me. I guess I’ll end by saying that this winter semester wasn’t all too bad. It ended a lot better than how it started. I made/wrote some things I don’t hate. I guess everything’s not too bad. I guess as a recommendation for this solar term… bring a jacket if it may rain, and maybe write. Maybe it can just be something stupid, like a very bad freeform poem written on the subway in 2 languages, neither of which you have a great grasp of.
I’ll include the link to the doc where I’ve collected most of the work I’ve done this year. It was originally meant to be private, so ignore the stupid parts: 2020-2021 总结. I may introduce one of the projects more later on.