Mood:
rushed
Now Playing: Natalie Grant
I am so proud of myself. I remembered my log in information. I was really frustrated for losing it. It must of gotten lost in the fog that floats across my brain every now and then.
I remember a line from the movie Throw Mama From The Train... "A writer writes, always" I think all writers, or any kind of true artist spends part of their time going absolutely nuts in a world that does come in their size or speak their language.
My writer's block was cured when I wrote a letter to my Mother, throwing her mentally from the train of my life. I didn't have to send the letter. I just had to stop trying drive the train of our relationship myself. You can only suffer so much, or you will never find time to live and sometimes you must learn to live while suffering.
Every artist has to suffer, and sometimes that suffering takes the form of rejection, and devaluation of the passion of a life's work. Suffering deepens the experience. Pain widens it. Poverty puts it into perspective, Abuse seasons it with angry, chaotic, driven qualities. Driven an inch or less from the line between sane and insane.
Sitting on the chasm between heaven and hell. ...watered by the rain of tears.
Sometimes others the writer loves suffer too. A true artist thinks in the most bizarre patterns. When artist talk they speak a language known to only them. To them it is a rhythmic dance, to others it frustrating to follow, like dancing with two left feet.
My life is chaotic, sometimes unstable and often completely directionless. So many people buy in to the American system that their drive for stuff and security robs them of the ability to enjoy it with spontaneity and fun. Not me. My life is chaotic but I am still here writing.
Posted by never-without-hope
at 11:02 PM PDT
d'oh