Goal Setting 9-5-10

Time to set some goals for the next few weeks:

1. Make it through school: It's no secret that I hate school. Not just dislike, but hate. I hate the conformity, the same-shit-different-day stuff, the dull classes, the easy classes, the hard classes, the doing-stuff-I-don't-care-about, etc., etc.

2. Write poetry: I haven't written in a while...and by a while I mean months. If I plan on being a writer professionally, I need to get back on track working diligently on my art.

3. Add more healthy fats: Unfortunately, as well as I've been doing otherwise, my meal plan has not been attended to 100% within the past few weeks. However, I am prepared with pre-portioned packages of cream cheese, nut butters, guacamole, hummus, and cheese to fulfill my requirements and maintain/gain weight.

4. Cherish the present: I am very future-focused right now: college, career, life. I want to enjoy each moment rather than believing that happiness will come to me once I'm in better circumstances.




What are your goals for the next few weeks?

Risk-Taking

Senior year presents itself with many options: where to live, where to attend school, what to study, etc. Though I would like to study creative writing and psychology in college, I have no idea whether or not I'll end up staying in Chicago or moving to New York. Frankly, it scares the shit out of me. Will I be well enough to even consider The New School of New York? Who knows?

It's important to practice taking healthy risks so that I will be confident enough to consider moving away as an option, rather than safely staying at home. Doing this involves practicing:

Self-Confidence : Allowing one to please one's self and somewhat eradicate anxiety associated with change.

Freedom : Understanding how free to do what one pleases one truly is.

Boundaries: Not allowing others' goals to get in the way.

What risks have you held back on?
What risks have you taken?

Yesterday I stumbled upon this article. It essentially relates that those who believe that they aren't selling out - namely "rebels" such as the beatniks, goths, punks, and hipsters of each generation - actually are selling out to consumerism. This is because no one can truly rebel against society unless they completely get themselves off the grid; that is to say, completely remove themselves from all of society. By succumbing to the want to "not sell out", these so-called rebel groups have sold out to consumerism. Where do they buy their black skinny jeans and organic foods and vintage records? Stores; hence, they have sold out to consumerism. Once again, unless one completely removes themselves from society, they are still selling out to consumerism and societal norms.

That's my musing for today.



Recovery-wise, things have been going fairly decently. I've been eating a lot of oatmeal lately, which I love, but it's difficult to not get into a rut with my food choices by choosing the same thing over and over again. After meeting with my dietitian, we decided to plan out my breakfasts and my snacks for the next few days in order to keep me on track and keep me challenging myself. This morning, I had oatmeal plus frozen french toast, among other things. Tomorrow: eggs and pancakes. I wish I had the patience to cook homemade breakfasts daily, but alas, I do not.

What do you think about "selling out"?
How do you keep yourself from eating the same foods over and over?

Dreams/Goals

My ultimate goal in life is to be a writer; pretty much always has been, except now my focus is on poetry rather than prose. What somewhat disturbs me is that sometimes those close to me do not also believe in these dreams. They may want me to be happy as well, but they do not see writing as a realistic profession. I disagree and refuse to change myself based upon others' opinions.

Yesterday, I was rejected by Poetry Magazine. As a writer, rejection is common and I'm used to it; I immediately resubmitted to Poetry Magazine and also to "Crazyhorse", another literary journal.

Untitled
Tracing constellations of
veins, blue and branching
vines of the flesh:
windy breath and
gasping air.
Stark, collapsing
bones between
cascading blood.
Thoughts crumple and
rush like quicksand,
stripping memories
of sunshine and
fireworks. Dewdrops
dampen lips and
lashes glued with
taught skin and
a hunger. Love
tags between
pines and brushes
spines and soothes.