Saturday, January 21, 2012

I am afraid to read my previous post.

I am afraid to read my previous post. I cannot ever remember thinking and writing being so difficult in my life--at least now when I would persevere through it. As I went for a brief constitutional, doing my alley rounds, I realized that my thinking has lost all emotional energy. That is not a good thing; that is bad. It is emotional energy which starts the fire and stirs the pot. Without it, thinking is laborious, and even hateful. I wonder if this kind of dead brain I am enduring is the way most kids feel, and which is why they tune out of school.

I know that my chaotic brain drives most psychics crazy, but not only is it comfortable to me, it is the source of my creativity, and creates a feeling not only of well-being, but joy. I like the feeling I get when all the jagged edges of the pieces start to fit. Today, they were not fitting, and normally I would not write until the pieces were close to fitting together, and I felt the compulsion to do so. However, the compulsion comes from the inner joy created by the zinging emotional energy created by a chaotic mind, and without it, writing is just a big, fat, boring chore and duty. Of course, I will do my duty, but I cannot imagine living a life with this kind of dead brain.

I feel like today's post is one big rough draft, but I rarely write rough drafts--at least on hard copy. Instead, I draft my writing over and over and over again in my head, and like a poem for a poet, I know when it is finished, and then I will start writing. Oh well, I tell myself, this is war, and while I don't feel very alive, I know I am not dead, and I sure as hell am not a vampire!!!

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