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A place where all the voices in my head can talk to each other |
| A place where all the voices in my head can talk to each other |
| Weeks just fly by nowadays, the speed of time accelerates exponentially the older one gets. Not that I consider myself old - my adage is, if you're in double digits you're fine, when you start getting into triple digits, *then* you can call yourself old! It's finally spring in these parts, usually I like rain and gray but enough is enough. Sun is so rejuvenating after such a long gray period, I was beginning to wonder if I was even alive anymore. It all seemed like an alternate reality, a world without color, underwater bubble where fish were disguised as people - only their blank eyes remained the same. Deep sea world where no light can penetrate. I plan to kick myself in the butt and truly write this weekend. I have let mundane interfere with my passion, and it shows. I have put on weight and I'm drinking more - true signs of unhappiness. I drive myself to the ground with work and am dead tired when I get home - true sign of insanity. It has to change. I know writing is what I want to do, what I *have to* do, otherwise I'm miserable and so is everyone I touch. And when I write, I usualy produce something at least fairly decent - so why is finding the motivation so damn hard? Anyone have a magic formula? If there was one, it would be sold in bottles at a big price, and all of us suckaz would queue up to spend our last pennies on it. Wish me courage. An afterthought - I realized how my 'self' is so much stronger when I write, when I'm not listening to myself I am easily influenced by outside forces and become fractured. Oh what injustice the world dumps on me.. remember we all create our own experience.. |
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*Pets Ruby and gives her a BIG hug* Here Ruby, I brought some of those treats with me and we should detour home that way too because there are lots left to gobble up. 
LOL J/K 