saturday.

[sunfright]

F***, I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Yesterday was such a stretch for me and now I have to go out tonight, too? Ugh. Don't wanna. I wish I could see the concert from home and not have to get dressed and actually fucking move.

I'll do it, though, for my girlfriend who's looked forward to this for months now. She deserves a nice evening where it's not about my limitations and needs, but about what she likes and what nurtures her soul.

Because she nurtures my soul.



I was tired. I slept. I'm dressed now and ready for the concert; we're leaving in an hour, there abouts.



Most likely, I can wave goodbye to the chance of getting anymore writing done for today, unless I manage to come home so invigorated that I can squeeze in a poem or two before bedtime. We'll see. It can go either way, really. Chopin and Tchaikovsky piano concertos can be like medicine, I've tried that before, even if there are no dancers to visualize the music for me this time around.

I've made a schedule for the rest of my project, so I can work towards being done with it by mid-April, circa. As it looks now, each of the remaining months should take me about 2 days to write (3 days the few times I have other plans) and then an additional day for planning the next chapter/month and read-through of the previous one. This way, if I keep to this schedule, I should be done with this story on the 7th of April and it gives me a week's leeway, should anything run less smoothly, as things tend to do.

Life doesn't like schedules. At least, my life doesn't seem to.



My word count right now is about 700 words from hitting the 20K mark and I am unproportionally excited about this. 20K is a lot of words for me who usually write stuff between 1000-2500 when lucky. And then, to do it in this format, poetically, just thrills me so much, I have no words for it. It's honestly the only way I can keep my drive up, it's because it's all divided into individal, connected-yet-unconnected parts. I can keep looking only 150 words ahead. That just really works for me.

Plus, no plot, no point, just language-exploration and philosophical considerations? Yep, now you recognise me, huh. That's more like me than 120 pages of text. Though, right now, I've got 120 pages of text and I'm flabbergasted, haha.

Watch on YouTube

We're listening to this tonight, among other things. That can only be good, right? If nothing else, I can do writer dreaming while listening to it.

Comments

[sunfright]

The concert was amazing. Very talented young pianists.

I'm pretty impressed with myself as well, tbh. I usually write short fics and poetry, this is just beyond anything I've written before. I need a prize at the end of it, to award myself for actually finishing it, when that time comes.

Language-exploration is the best thing, really. All fics should be about that!