Parting is such bloody sorrow

Got those damn wisdom teeth removed. It was all quite surreal, the pain is not though. Of course I felt nothing, my mouth felt like a balloon, and i was watching the dentist and the dentist assistant drill my teeth like it was part of a plaster wall. Then when they stitched it up, I felt the strings tug against my cheeks. I was on laughing gas that was supposed to calm me, but all it did was made me feel lazily detached. So I laid there going in my head: Oh wow, those little white bits of stuff flying up was once my tooth. Wow, they are completely destroying it. Oh, is that how a wall feels? I am getting renovated. And when I got stitched up: The strings were mildly disturbing, the fact that I had no pain what-so-ever, just made it even more strange. It was all cerebral :" Wow they are sewing me up."
I was looking at the dentist's determined face, and I heard a voice in my head going: DAMN BASTARD TEETH. It was strange.

Lee and Gabe were scaring me with all these horror stories about their wisdom teeth removal. Lee told me he still has nightmares about it. And Gabe, Gabe was out the whole time but still when I told him the dentist told me I didn't need to be blacked out. He went: "the dentist is lying."

So it's over with. I'm just glad. Now I'm sitting at home, with two pieces of gauze clamped inside my mouth, with my mouth full of spit I have been collecting for over a hour, thinking of cheeseburgers. I hate the taste of my own blood so I refuse to swallow my own blood-laced spit.

Tried to write but am too sleepy. Just looked at the story I have been working on. It's quite honestly shit. Right now, I'm just hoping that it is one of those mood I'm in, that it'll pass and I'll like it at least a little. I'm going to keep working on it though.

Re-reading Out of Africa, so so so beautifully written. Isak Dinesen has great pacing and is a master at delivering her stories in such a non-sentimental way. The fight against nostalgia makes it such a great read. SHe never colors anything with sentiments. But it is not sterile and trivial. I think the greatest weakness of my own writing is triviality. If it's too trivial, no one cares. I hate that old formula that something big has to be at stake, but it is true, if nothing is at stake, then what's the point of reading. But the problem is that I feel that from my experience of being in my generation, we don't suffer any big stakes. THey are simply personal disappointments and grudges--which might explain why people like things like : Eat, Pray, Love. The problem is that I don't know how to capture that ennui and still captivate. How does Wes Anderson do it? Seems like all great representative voices of the younger generation has gone to write for or produce films. No wonder, literature is stuck with wannabes and people trying to emulate the old...

But,

This is becoming an annoyingly long post, so I will chop it off right HERE.