I feel very insecure this morning because I have nothing to say anymore. It's different than being lovesick or depressed... It's like my whole body is super sensitive and could crumble if someone were to touch me. I’ve been walking around these past few days wondering what’s my dilemma now because to tell a good story, you will always need one... And after posting this mornings entry and rereading everything from the past two weeks for the 20th time, I feel like deleting everything… which I know is bad, so I force myself to close the computer and get out of the house before I do something stupid or get mentally worse.
Now I’m sitting in the park in my own private world with the pigeons, the homeless, and old people because we all have nothing to do and no place to go while school children, businessmen, and other civilians walk by going to work or school or somewhere else they need to be, which makes me wonder:
If you are trying to write about society, should you be living in it?
Suddenly though, I realize that I’m finally writing again like I used to write because I’m a mess of raw, unstable emotions and now I’ve come to the conclusion, which I had suspected before that even though going to the gym has been helping me get my life, mind and body back on track, it- at the same time- has been causing my work to suffer as well.
Shimabuku, one of my favorite artists once said that he hated the belief that you supposedly had to suffer to make good art, which I totally agree with since I hate stereotypes and believe that nothing is absolute, but at least in my case- well at least with what I’m trying to do with Talking Barnacles- I am beginning to think that maybe it is necessary to suffer in order to connect with others… to go down deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole in order to find those fundamental truths or experiences that everyone has gone through… and finally after going down far enough to the point where you can't get any dirtier, in some magical way, the world will turn over and there will be sunlight and people- hopefully school children, businessmen and other civilians- at the other end, waiting to say:
Yay! You're back! Please tell us everything!
Please keep shooting and writing!
ReplyDeleteDon't delete TB!
ReplyDeleteI read this as the end of a chapter, where patpat our protagonist has seemingly gotten over his love sickness and we are at ease. The problem has been overcome and the reader has enough closure for the chapter to end but of course this book is to good to put down. I await the next chapter.
(not meaning to objectify your life)
stick it out.
ReplyDeletePlease don't stop.
ReplyDeleteWe like your happy stories too!
Ganbarimasu (I will try hard!)
ReplyDelete