07 II 2002 - 22:08 - vita23

Alchera Alchera Alchera, we love Alchera's main page...

But you'll want to click here to see the entry I've got. Well, sort of the entry I've got. You'll see what I mean.

Before I go into that, however, I just want to mention how stuck I am on Alex. He is right now an idee fixe that will not get out of my head (and as I give the URL to more and more people I realize how many of them know him...) and this is terrible, because I can't do anything about it. Those of you who have passed beyond adolescence are perhaps snickering, thinking, "That poor, unknowing teenager." Well, I won't disagree with you.

But I have to appeal to your sympathy: how many of you have stared (or darted quick glances at) someone, and moved quickly in your head from buggering to five years' worth of dating to marriage? You've even planned what you'll name the kids you adopt (or have, if you're lucky that way), and what pets you'll have, and how great your combined library will be.

Well, maybe that last one is only me.

So you'll guess what I'm doing to poor Alex, even though he doesn't know it. I wonder if this counts as a violation? I worry too much, I'll enjoy this while I can. I don't stare; I dart quick, confused glances like a nervous animal. (Because I've heard the nervous animal vibe is a good one to put off if you ever, ever, want sex.) I move us into a parallel universe where he's gay and get through most of it, except for the part where...

Well, it's not that he's feminine, and it's not that I'm feminine, but when I put us together in my head walking down a street in redneckland, I see the pair of us lasting, oh, twenty minutes tops. I mean: it's just obvious. We don't even have to say anything. Or at least, I don't have to say anything, and the little life I've constructed just makes it that obvious. I'm making no sense. My tongue has been loosened from my brain; it won't be permanent, nor will it be that serious, but it's still rather unsettling. Boys I can't have shouldn't have this effect on me.

On to Alchera!

The Alchera weekly challenge for the week of 5 II - 12 II has the following theme:

"Abandon grammar and sentence structure and write a journal entry about anything! Write fast and don't stop until you feel like it."

This project is taken from The Writer's Digest No. 12 (December 2001 -- they retain copyrights for quoted material). This is exactly how I want this done: I want you to sit in a quiet atmosphere where you feel at peace with yourself and will not be interrupted. Grab a pen or pencil and a couple of sheets of paper (make sure your bladder is empty!), take some deep breaths, clear your head of any non-personal clutter, pick up your pen and start writing your thoughts as they come into your mind. Forget about sounding good, forget about sounding smart and intellectual, forget about sounding like you've mastered the art of writing. Just sound real. I don't want you to stop writing until you feel like you've emptied the recesses of your brain, until you feel like all of those things you've put aside or have avoided for quite some time have been recorded on your paper. This takes a lot of guts. Once you're finished, if you have access to a scanner, I would like the scanned image. If you don't, please type out everything as it is on your paper--make NO edits. Remember, no stopping to think about how to word this or if that sounds nice--don't worry about punctuation. If your thoughts tend to be broken by other incoming thoughts, that is GREAT.

All right, well and good. But I never have time to myself and I'm never quite at peace with myself. Rather than trying to force time to one side and let the ruins flow around me... I did it during class. (Yes, Laurie, I'm cowering, I was a terrible terrible person, I'm sorry!) It happened in a blur, unless I was playing, and then I didn't write.

I did scan the images as requested; I'm sorry if they're illegible on your computer. (They seem to read quite fine on my computer and on Raych's computer.) And my handwriting? Hey, I was writing fast. Some of it on the bus.

I probably could have written more, but I thought the place where I ended was more or less logical. So, without further ado:

First Page

Second Page

Third Page

All right, happy reading... sort of. Aren't you glad I type now?

"imago verborum rasorum gallis" : the image of words having been scratched by chickens (hey, it's descriptive, no?)