So.
Time marches like soldiers. Stolidly, solidly forward. It's not the tempo, the caedence, but the speed. It's always moving forward at the same speed, despite what you may feel, or in what state you may be. Or to spite.
Sew.
Time's moved on, and don't worry, I haven't become emo, or even deeper. If anything, I've grown shallower. My pen feels it, as do the pad of my fingers, and my drawing paper. Nothing comes out on paper like it used to. That's my excuse - self pity!

One day, this journal entry will be just as embaressing as the others. I'm guessing that'll be right after I post it, haha. But I won't delete it. Deleting blogs is for pussies, rose says. I refuse to be described any crude words.

So!
So now that that's over with, my dredgings for a years worth of inaction, I'd like to tell you where I've been. I've been stuck under textbooks, in between term papers and under the SAT's grinding, disproving thumb. Will I be back? Only if I could catch the wisps of my creativity.

Wish me luck!
Celeste Sangiorgio


I also, like in olden days, have a quote for you:
"Experts in ancient Greek culture say that people back then didn't see their thoughts as belonging to themm. When they had a thought, it occured to them as a god or goddess giving them an order. Appolo was telling them to be brave.
Athena was telling them to fall in love.
Now people hear a commecial for sour cream potato chips and rush out to buy.
At least the ancient Greeks were honest."
Lullaby - Chuck Palahniuk