Ah, it's another one of those late posts. Things get incredibly busy at home. I am rarely home, to be perfectly honest. That tends to work best for me. There's school stress, but home stress tends to be a bit much sometimes. (It's great that I'm moving out in June. My "Keep Calm" attitude doesn't mesh well with the rest of my family.)
This winter break, I have goals to make sure I write as much as possible. I don't have much privacy here -- in the dorms, at least, my roommate and I are good at pretending the other doesn't exist when it's time to wind down before sleep. We create our own pseudo-space. Here at home, I don't have my room at night -- except for if I am absolutely silent. It has been taken over by her inherited birds.
Being that things are uproarious at best, I need music.
I'm not going to complain about everything that's wrong with being home. The final point on that is that I am too old for their chaos, rushed mornings and childish mannerisms. They all get in my headspace and make things entirely uncreative. But that's neither here nor there.
I am going to find a way to have my own space. Even if I have to walk outside during a snow storm just to have silence. I will find it. I always wondered why it was that I could never get anything done on time. Part of it is lack of motivation -- see above -- but also a lot of it is my own brain making excuses based on environment. I don't know if they are all writers, but people sit on busy park benches and write in tiny notebooks. I should just write. It doesn't matter the turmoil around me.