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6:58 p.m. - December 05, 2001
could it be satisfaction?
Tonight, I ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant (egg drop soup and shrimp with snow peas) and inside my fortune cookie the scrap of paper read: It is much wiser to take advice than to give it.
I thought about it while my dad read his. (Something about a friendly smile.) And these were my thought processes: if everyone took this advice and only took advice instead of gave it, then there would be no advice to take. ("It didn't say you HAD to," said my dad.) So if all the WISE people took this advice, and only ever took advice, and not gave it, then the only advice ever given would be by stupid people, and by listening to the stupid people's advice, the 'wise' people would do stupid things.
My father stared at me. "Is this how your mind usually works?" he asked.
Yep.

In other news, I had to read a story in English class today. It was a really stupidstory, too. Ms M only calls on me to read when the assignment I've done is particularly bad. I should keep a stash of good stories to pull from when my turn comes arond again. Maybe I will.
There's something she's been saying in class while yelling at all of us that worries me, because it's true, and the gist of it is: You can write in a journal forever and ever, and even be good at it, but unless you have some structure, there will never be a story. Everyone who wants to be a writer, they have to have structure, discipline, guidelines, or else all they'll ever have is a journal. ('and that's FINE, if that's all you want', she'll say, shrugging, 'but I think you guys are capable of writing real stories.')
And so I am, here on my online journal. All I have is a journal. I am horrible at writing plot, so far. Maybe all I will have is a journal. Guidelines? i've never been one to follow them, for writing, especially. I know she's right. But I keep hoping some kind of undiscovered genius will pop up in me and people will simply be compelled to read my ramblings. It won't happen, but it is a rather vivid pipe dream. After all, it happened with Bobby. But he's something else. Maybe all I have is a journal, and maybe all I ever WILL have is a journal. And maybe that's just fine with me. Maybe I don't need a storyline to feel like I've expressed myself. Maybe I'm happy with what I've discovered on my own.

Today I watched certain couples practically fuck each other in the student center, and I didn't even care. I laughed with all the other people. Let them have each other. I can be jealous, but it doesn't mean there has to be resentment there too.

 

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