If you can crack my mind open and see what is inside,
It is a beautiful world of pictures and words,
it speaks of short stories of love and war
it sings of poetry that has no agendas
it screams of justice and equality
it is a novel of memories, compressed in a circle.
Only time will show… what I see in my mind
The unspoken bonds of a family, is beautiful.
It is unconditional love, giving and nurturing
Building, a bright future, for the lineage
Riding, on a legacy that spans decades
We are, the outcome of this descendent love.
Family is the best teacher of love.
Swinging in and out of happiness and sadness
The intense mood shifts of bliss and the downs
Frustration and anxiety
Elation and the lows
Wavering faith, losing and gaining faith
With open eyes to perception
With a heart so true, that it faces the harshest of realities
Then it drops too low, it all falls into an abyss of agony
When it goes too high, it all rises, to the clouds of angels
This is the what the artist goes through daily
in pursuit of our artistry.
In pursuit of the truth.
There are only two kinds of men in this world, Men and Minions.
Working is emotionally numbing
Just logic and reason, and a step by step formula
there are always answers to questions
Artistry is emotionally driven
With creative urges and drives
trying to battle it out, to take control
there are no answers, only more questions
An artist, tries, to answer what cannot be answered with logic.
It is a lifelong… battle to bring it out. wholeheartedly.
The tensed emotions, grawing my heart out. for all to see
stripping it naked, beating, outwards
like a prize, a trophy to worship.
This writing lecture is extremely interesting with feedback from other famous writers on how they go about their writing process on a daily basis, waking up at 4am, isolating themselves on top of a hill or drinking and smoking away, it all works fine.
This reminds me a little of myself. I started working on my first draft at the beginning of this month, and I find it extremely hard to sit down and write 1500 words daily. I get distracted, and end up writing poetry, or short stories, I can even write a travel editorial or two, and when I open the first draft document, I am blank in the mind again, unable to write anything for the novel. Maybe sputtering 100 – 200 words before becoming stuck again.
At this stage, I will be extremely frustrated (because I want to keep to my word count goal). I will throw my books around the room, vent, listen to emo music, cry, dance (that is how I lost weight while writing, dancing away when the emotions hit too hard). Sleep. Wake up, go back to the blank screen. Repeat.
Writing a novel is probably one of the toughest marathon a serious writer can undertake. I have tried many times, and I always end up hating the product midway, or my plot gets tangled up, or I simply lose focus and it just hangs there. My self doubts and insecurities (the inner critique) tells me I am not good enough, my language is too simple etc, and it is crap. When the inner critique wins, my artistic side is killed.
Finally, after two years of not writing, I have decided to win my inner critique, and write a novel to the impact of really crazy and artistic. I am on the verge of being obsessive compulsive, with a borderline personality disorder, and bipolar. It is all cool, I still have a grasp of reality thanks to my close friends and family support.
To keep my sanity, I have stopped forcing myself to produce 1500 words consistently on a daily basis because that method does not work for me. As my writings are highly emotionally driven, I have to write when I have the emotions to drive the story. Hence, my new resolution is to write only when I feel like writing. After accepting my vulnerabilities and inner demons, I have learnt to let go and stop thinking of the outcome (if people will like what I write), and just fcking write đŸ™‚
On the Aeron, looking at the brown liquid of gold, stirring it with a spoon of ivory.
The diary of secrets, sketched with a red tinted pen, filled with a vial of blood
The phones that never rings, the wires pulled out, and cards cracked.
Crafted on a Razer Black Widow keyboard, Domestic.
Moved by a wireless Logitech mouse to match, American.
Displayed on a Apple iMac widescreen, American.
A home that feels like an economy
An office that feels like an artist loft
In convoluted, contorted, confused mess
Under the pressure and stress to perform
A void of emotionless emptiness
Only evolution can take place in harsh circumstances.
There is a line
Once, across
You can’t come back
There is a threshold
between
sanity and insanity
a genius and savant
There is an edge
we all thread daily
to sacrifice our health
for immediate gratification
I saw you smoking by the window, shortening your limited time span, further.
There is a bond
that holds us all together
telling us to protect one another
the instinctive urge of friendship.
There is a feeling
that tells me
you are more important
than who you think you are.
——
Dedicated to Soulflamess
