Thursday, June 21, 2012

#65--The Places You Used to Know

All gung-ho to start, but not sure what to start with. I know I have cleaning to do, and playlists to make and papers to sort through. But I don't want to do any of those. Who knew Pinterest & Tumblr could be so useful for idea sprouting and for designing characters? Sometimes I think about how each character I make is a little part of me. And after each story is written, each plot arc is fulfilled I wonder which parts of me have made it to the page. Are these things I want to happen? Things I'm afraid of? Do I openly subject others around me to the same violent emotions that I write on the page? If I write only the morbid, dark, and grim, am I destined for misery? Am I unable to be happy? I don't think that these sorts of examinations of writing are ones that should be taken on alone, not to mention late at night and right before bed. These considerations lead to bad dreams and worse waking.

I am not imprisoned here, by my words. At least, I don't think I am. I could be subject to the Stockholm Syndrome, but I'm not sure that these bits of sound, these utterances, these twisting phrases and these spilled bowls of alphabet soup--that they are indeed restricting. Certainly there is more that I want to say that I struggle to find words for, and thus I am in a sense imprisoned. As long as I continue, the words will finally come, and even if they are not 100% what I want, they are always adequate at least, for their understanding by others. And I don't care if the grammar falls apart, that overlying structure that is supposed to be a rule system but that is more like guidelines for sounding credible and like you have half a brain...

But here I am rambling. I'm avoiding the issue. An issue that is impossible to grasp--so slippery that I cannot even in full confidence guarantee that it is an issue at all. Am I silly? Am I paranoid? Over analyzing? No matter. I've been here before. Well, it isn't quite the same spot exactly, but the foliage is familiar. I can see old trees I've passed by before, not too far from where I am now. Do I regret having come around this way again? Probably not. After all, there must be something to be gained from this area if the resources are plentiful enough that I should return, consciously or not.

I find these images on Pinterest & Tumblr and I think that maybe I'm not projecting my true self via a physical outlet. And sure my physical and mental states don't have to be identical, but is it obvious to others? Does it need to be? Again I'm stuck figuring myself out, or trying to. But none of that is important. I already know that my whole life will consist of me trying to figure myself out. Which is, what it's all about basically.

Except not today. Today I don't know what it's about. Have I changed again? Perhaps that is what it is--an internal shift that I have yet to fully recognize and acknowledge. Here I am again, analyzing myself. Perhaps it isn't the change itself that is significant but the source of the change, or the parts that are different from what they were. Perhaps also it does not have to do with a change of existing parts, but an addition or subtraction of parts. Of course, this only makes it more confusing for me.

In the end...well, I cannot come to a conclusion yet. Maybe it is not an overnight change but something that will take a bit. Which is okay. I'm not going to rush it and come out with a half-finished product. I must be thorough. It is interesting though, that I should be conscious of a change now when previous changes I've gone through have been much less obvious to me until after the fact, and even then they usually have to be pointed out by others. But maybe this is part of the change itself. Becoming aware.

Does this even make sense anymore? Is this a clear thought progression? Maybe not. Regardless, I feel better for having written it out. Until more is discovered--

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