my art & dreams
why this gothic be nightmare?…
dissuaded and dissatisfied with the corrupt aide of the ego in my culpable hands, attempting to harness my peculiar reasoning for a lifestyle set in contradiction, and take on the ownership of self through the lens of rational dichotomy in autonomy… crafting a question somewhere centered inside all real personal belief to be asking while staying true to the absolute identity…
a challenge failed?…
so I have set up one of the largest hurdles to ever be within my purview as writer to take on… 20000 words is a powerful task, and in a month, I did make many pokes into that dark matter with as much of my mental capabilities as I could… however, my assigned task was too much to take on at this point, and through this self-proposed challenge I have learned much about what obstacles I do need to overcome for my writing to work well… I need to finish a story firstly, and then work on volume later, when I have more experiential data to spring from… I have so many unfinished stories and rough drafts on this site that it makes this challenge seem kind of ridiculous to try to tackle this early in my work, but …
inspiration and the juices that run dry.
I awoke from the disturbing dream with a clue as to how I wanted to write… Now I find myself struck by a lack of inspiration… It flowed out of me one minute, but then subsided as the frenzy lost its momentum… I write some disturbing stuff to launch it from my brain to yours… This is my sickness, my crude artistic merit under layers of bitter wit and droll humor, but I strive forward even as I feel I am only writing to a limited audience… Sleep has become a sport for edging closer to the remaining ideas intermingling within me… The dreams a harbinger for unreal ideas made out of pictures visualized in this state of listlessness… Does this shell feel as I do?… I sit and wonder where I am going with these ideas… The …
Stories is My Business…
…and business is rather mediocre at the moment.
that doesn’t stop me from purging my brain hemorrhages all over this blank space. sometimes it takes awhile to come up with more material, but don’t let that perturb you, if you like a certain tale watch it because I always go back and revise the tissue that makes up the story. visions always seem to be changing on me, and new ideas show up on my doorstep without warning. patience is always rewarded, though, and my stories will be no exception. that is why they fit into the on-going sub-category Here. for now, there is going to be time enough to work on everything you see Here, my friends. whether you love it or hate it, there is no reason to just give up on it, but that is always going …
motion through the struggles that be…
the get to the other end of the problem, the solution, you must first ask the question that you wish to answer. the motion can take a person out of the picture, but not all deeds are dark and deceptive as that they would though my words. hurdles are all over the place on the way to the destination that you require to be at peace with who you are. the machinations of the minions are the structure of this unity. ancestors dressed in furs of length, and harbingers of a new faith. the money was always spent, and the function has always been the same to make others grimace in fear of a plague of marauders, the rich ones fathom the fringe of thrift, but with the lens of hubris or ennui firmly in place over the eye. …
Less the never.
So you have lost your way again…Welcome to my world…This is a fairly reclusive state, Here within the blog, and I speak from the soul of this thing I have become…Sometimes the flow is strong, and the words come from a depth that just grows inversely proportionately to my own positive adaptive growth, the well of experiential memory is defined by the lives of others before my own…I will not use the phrase “hearing voices” too loosely, but Here is where the one can disassemble into the many minds of I…It may seem absurd at first, but all things do sound wacky to the unknowing perspective…There are few things that can almost literally drip from the soul, and words are capable of moving masses, microcosms of the universal within ourselves…I enjoy writing these words that become the bearers of …
Submission of the monster.
Encoded into our genes are the capacities for monsters among men, and love within the fear of hate, a strange brew of senses that take the effects of disease and obstacle in the same ponderous leaps…The animal inside craves the perversions that we prevent the others from wanting, and the hypocrite was born, whether Xian or some other deity of nonexistent relevance…The id is not who we are, but merely one aspect to this greater whole of emotions and thoughts bending through time and space to find an outlet for the tensions that build up…We commit ourselves to some of the most stupendous mistakes that a species can, and all with a cognitive nod to and respect for our darker sides…They make our choices just as much as our better halves…Playing the victim is not the way out of …
Understanding this dichotomy.
Sequences within the synchronicity to make a whole reality that we see and breathe…The organs pumping, whether well or infected with filthy germs, to make motion, and to stay in motion…What are these drooling menaces that walk like living things amidst our fettered dreams inside this bubble?…Why do their ill-virtuous movements break down the actions of valor like so much stomach acid digesting the details?…The angels and demons fighting over our version of the soul, each in time with a person’s ideas of what could possibly be real, and the battle always sways to meet the needs of the cosmic balance at best…Thoughts are drained remnants of these distilled and boiling souls…Bubbling up to the surface like steam, particles becoming more than the mass from which it leaves, and yet it is still a piece of the everything that …
Destination Mutation.
Where are we now?…Ahead of the game, as if there ever was one, or still waiting in the wings for the appropriate moments to pull us from the shadows?…We rush to achieve so much, but we hardly ever get there without some kind of gathered encumbering ideas in our heads…Darwin wasn’t wrong, just misguided into making his studies the right way, and thus imprinting ideals of evolutionary mutations into the intellectual community…Now, it occurs to us humans without needing to be taught a single example of Darwin’s basic principles…Schools are the meat machines where beast becomes body and mind separately.. Where we all learn to ‘will the beast’ into something more than just ourselves…This is, however, where people come to learn how to be complete assholes…Either because of other vicious little children making fun of them and mistreating them, …