Archive for September, 2011

Serie-us (I’m so clever it makes me ill)

In a break from my usual modus operandi today we’re talking shop.

As in writing shop.

My first series is moving forward in fits and starts. Which is quite normal for me lately. I’m not quite certain where I want to break this book off and start the next. I’m looking for that perfect spot that says both completion and read more!

Therein lies the difficulty of writing a series. I’ve got a couple of spots that would work, choice, always the issue is choice.

I’m also not quite sure how I want the next book to start. Add in my complete lack of focus on this series and you’ve got a bit of a pickle. I like that phrase although it barely makes sense in literal terms.

I’ve got too many projects in my head. The lack of focus is a result of my creativity; brain never turns off.

At any rate I know this is incredibly vague, I’ve been debating posting a chapter or two but I’ve been a little leery at the thought of posting unpublished material, even though it’s copyrighted.

I ❤ you intellectual property laws. But I digress:

Anyone out there get stuck like this when you're trying to finish a project? I like that I'm constantly forming new ideas for books, I enjoy the conceptual exercise of it, but I would really, really like to finish this one first.

Ah, well. The curse of the endlessly prolific and gifted. I'm such a whiner today.

#winning

Human beings have endless power to create. That is the gift we were given.

Using that gift is what you give back.

So get out there, live, love and be the best possible version of you that you possibly can be.

I have spent the last several months intensively analyzing my life, it’s been a productive journey. I literally relived every moment that could possibly break me. I went through everything that has been an obstacle to my personal happiness and health.

And then I let it all go. It’s a part of me, but it no longer rules my thoughts. My life is mine. I will not bend and I will not break.

It’s just a slight perceptual shift, I believe that the test that is our lives isn’t a pass/fail multiple choice exam. It’s an essay. The only thing that matters is how you answer; there are no standard answers for this life.

It’s been a long strange trip, but no matter what has been thrown at me; I still believe. And I sincerely cannot wait to see what’s next.

You only get one life. Let your regrets fall away and never, ever look back.

Life or something like it

I am finally free.

I want to jump off of something very high, with a chute of course.

Sometimes your feet are moving of their own accord, and there’s a big difference between knowing the path and walking the path.

I am right when and where I am supposed to be in my life. As everything starts to fall into place, I can feel the muscles in my face form a smile; unbidden, slightly ironic and decidedly mischievous.

Loose ends tied. Baggage checked at the door.

Metamorphosis complete. There are thousands of words in my personal lexicon, many more available through my dictionary app, not a one can describe how I feel right now.

I rather like that.

Eternal Sunshine/spotted mind

This week of last year, my life was flipped on it’s head. It still resonates today.

I find myself placing memories in a box, sealing it with tape. The shuffle on my iPhone seems to understand exactly what I’m trying to say.

I’m pushing everything into a form that I will soon step outside of. Seeking with a sick kind of desperation to escape.

I let every pained grimace, every rip and tear in my heart, every thought that sends saline washing down my cheeks, flow over me.

I let it all hit me at once, let it break and re-form me. There is almost a strange sort of joy in allowing it all to flow through.

I find strength in the weaknesses that have led to this point; I look back and see every juncture that had I only been a little stronger, a little more sure, a bit more…fierce in my heart.

I can let all of the grief and rage leave me, I can step outside of sadness, placing it firmly in that box.

A little older, a little wiser. I vow to never break. Not again, not like this.

I wonder, often, why I must internalize everything so fully, why I need to feel everything so completely that I risk destroying myself. This always leads me to wonder what it is about intensity that so draws me to it; moth buzzing a candle, flickering, twisting-turning, my wings are always almost ablaze.

Matrices

…a man needs something he can hold onto, a nine-pound hammer or a woman like you, either one of those things will do…a picture of you holding a picture of me in the pocket of my blue jeans, still don’t know what love means…

That resonates today, equal parts anguish and angst.

Suspended animation, ice running through my veins. Trapped here in the melancholy of my memory.

The rollercoaster of (my) life is more about misery than amusement lately. I find myself oddly comforted by quantum mechanics today; many worlds theory. I can look back and see every choice that has led to this place.

Like signposts, or in my mind matrix theory; a black canvas lit up in glowing blues, whites and reds, each glowing ball a decision – roads flowing from each to other matrices. The colors signify my belief in the correctness of a particular decision that led to a particular time and place.

I can see where I have done things perfectly, horribly or simply made the only choice available in certain situations. I find the map grows fuzzy where choices were taken out of my hands; balls dropped, things broken.

Somewhere out there, in an alternate reality, filmy and half-real, is a me who does everything right.

I wonder what he has learned from his life.

Crashbox

Annoyed, I wrote a fairly long post and my app crashed and deleted it.

I remember most of it, however the reasons and emotions that had guided the way I wrote them down, the wordplay and grammar/syntax/structure of the writing are all now several hours old.

You can never feel something exactly the same way twice. It’s why I like to capture the immediacy of every moment.

Ugh. I think I’m actually really pissed about this. That, in and of itself, is remarkable.

Punctum Est?

So much running through my mind, twisting, turning- turning into an unpalatable soup, of sorts.

Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
But it’s feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it’s gone,
The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour
And I started staring at the passengers who’re waving goodbye
Can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?

Words are deserting me faster than rats fleeing a sinking ship.

I seem to be having such trouble sorting through what I’m feeling these days. And it’s odd because I feel like I’m not feeling anything. It’s almost as if I’m watching it happen to someone else.

I do feel an odd sort of coldness, as though my heart has been replaced with a chunk of ice. Dry, colder than liquid nitrogen; I am almost surprised when I don’t see frost on my fingers or a filmy, frozen steam when my breath leaves my body.

But that is purely physiologic, I am not certain how to explain the curious distance between my mind and my heart. They have always been at odds with one another, often violently opposed, always vocal (in a sense) with their disagreements, but now the silence is deafening.

I’ve lost something of myself, and I don’t know how- or even if I should try- to get it back.

I feel, well that’s just it, I feel nothing. No. Thing.

Gainfully

I feel gloriously alive this morning. I’ve always wondered what a snake feels like after it sheds it’s old skin and becomes comfortable in it’s new one.

I bet it’s something like this.

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