i'm waiting, i'm waiting for you

I want a puppy so bad my head is going to explode.

Animal shelter tomorrrrrrrrow, for online I have seen the cutest puppy EVER.

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In other news, I was seriously tempted to just post an mp3 of "Goodbye & Thanks for All The Fish" from the Hitchhiker's Movie & have that be my final post. Appropos, I think, but a little overdramatic and unnecessary.

I'm compositing, compiling—performance art? seriously?—and carefully considering my answers.

Part of the reason I got miffed is that I've been writing a lot of stories in my other journal, and there I'm rewarded for putting time and effort into a piece of literature. Yet the quality of writing is, on the whole, not that much better than here—and here's only worse because occasionally I post things like "I want a puppy."

So is it because I'm writing about my life, and ongoing events therein, and therefore what I'm writing is explicitly personal?

Is it because, as the_xtina suggested, my readers/flist reacts to an aura of noli me tangere (don't touch) emanating, regardless of whether or not I consciously claim that vibe or not?

Is it because I make obscure literary references and pile sentence upon sentence without end, ten dollar words and complicated language from reading too many novels and the intricate logic built up by dedicated attempts to be taken seriously as a precocious child in an adult's world, now seen as pretentious?

I'm still smarting/bemused by the idea of this journal as performance art, though.