I think what I want to write about is loss. Death. Bereavement. Grief. Negativity. Pain. Truth. All of those things have a common place in my head. Because I let them. I realize full well that all of these feelings are avoidable. That with medication and counseling I could be rid of the way I've felt since I can remember feeling. It might be smarter that way. But I guess I lack the intelligence to back down from myself. I am rarely one to back down. I'm not hot headed but I'm also not afraid of anyone, anything.
I'm of the understanding now that without taking risk, gain is unachievable. Go forward without worry of the ground in which you tread. Don't head for trepidation or hope for pain but don't run at the first sight of trouble. Keep forging on as one who will not lose when losing teaches so much. Losing is almost the same as winning, hell it feels that way. Which is terrible. But terrible is reality. Or rather reality is mostly terrible. Not actively though, there are tent poles of terrible and lots of slopes between.
This is what death has done to me. If I really wasn't afraid I wouldn't have a need to create and want to do more. I'd just do it. Something I know nothing about is what I'm afraid of. Something I must not be able to place or want to maybe. Its me that's holding this all up, because even if its something else I don't think I'm actively looking for it. But maybe that's what I'm expressing. That after this whole thing I will feel better because I would have expressed something I felt at one point. Maybe the expense will be all worth it. Maybe this time I can break the lazy spell my mind falls under. Maybe the spell has held long enough. I'm hoping for a lot here. I'm hoping that I can hope. That I'm not just bullshitting myself. Because I see a lot of creatives doing that. They lie to themselves. We tell ourselves little lies all the time, because big realities are abound at all times. So life bears need for a little fantasy. But the goal is the same, express at all costs the self needing to get out. Even bad artist still impress me with the output they seem to have. That's an art in itself.
I'm of the understanding now that without taking risk, gain is unachievable. Go forward without worry of the ground in which you tread. Don't head for trepidation or hope for pain but don't run at the first sight of trouble. Keep forging on as one who will not lose when losing teaches so much. Losing is almost the same as winning, hell it feels that way. Which is terrible. But terrible is reality. Or rather reality is mostly terrible. Not actively though, there are tent poles of terrible and lots of slopes between.
This is what death has done to me. If I really wasn't afraid I wouldn't have a need to create and want to do more. I'd just do it. Something I know nothing about is what I'm afraid of. Something I must not be able to place or want to maybe. Its me that's holding this all up, because even if its something else I don't think I'm actively looking for it. But maybe that's what I'm expressing. That after this whole thing I will feel better because I would have expressed something I felt at one point. Maybe the expense will be all worth it. Maybe this time I can break the lazy spell my mind falls under. Maybe the spell has held long enough. I'm hoping for a lot here. I'm hoping that I can hope. That I'm not just bullshitting myself. Because I see a lot of creatives doing that. They lie to themselves. We tell ourselves little lies all the time, because big realities are abound at all times. So life bears need for a little fantasy. But the goal is the same, express at all costs the self needing to get out. Even bad artist still impress me with the output they seem to have. That's an art in itself.
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