Thursday, April 26, 2012

No Title/Rambling/No Point/Happy Rant--You Choose


(oh the unedited scripts full of typos)

In life, I have always had to grow and change and adapt and be agreeable.  I don’t have to do that anymore. But I will continue to grow and learn and learn the hard way. Maybe I can learn to learn the easy way? You think?

I feel peaceful and sleepy. The calm before the storm? Not sure how much more of this I can take. Work, work for work, work for love, work for personal growth, work for S, work on chores, work out, work. Where is the fucking fun in that?

Personal growth. If I grow much more I will turn into a giant green-and-gold goddess hovering above the little emotionally stunted miniature people down below. Do you know that some people never cry or think or try to do or be better? Do you know that some people think that they are fine just the way they are (usually fine with being totally fucked up and mean and cruel or boring and dry and vacant?) Sure, some stasis is healthy and a great fucking relief after a long growth spurt, but don’t you want to learn new things? See new things? Challenge your tastes in music or art or food or love making? What about people? Haven’t you ever been surprised by an unusual person? Isn’t that a cool learning experience? For the love of all that is good, get out there and see some new shit! Climb the wall or tunnel under it, whatevs, just go, get, go ‘head.

How can you love or do anything worth a shit in your life if you don’t live or rather, if you don’t feel alive? 

This is why writers and creative people are fucktards sometimes…because we have to feel alive—that life quest makes us make art. Life inspires (forces) me to write—without living and making mistakes and trying new things, I would have nothing to write about. Sometimes that desire to feel alive translates into fucking things up and making a big mess so I can feel something, learn something, make something. Being a grown up in a real way, means finding inspiration from less destructive things like documentaries and conversations and photos of old NYC and so on.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2134408/Never-seen-photos-100-years-ago-tell-vivid-story-gritty-New-York-City.html

But being a crazy creative person also has its advantages. It also means, loving a lot, and being exciting and having passion and new ideas and having really great conversations and being surprised and surprising a lot. Looking not only outside the proverbial box but also around it, and under it and next to it and three miles away from it. Maybe that’s why creative people get along so well with kids—we are like them, unashamed, unembarrassed, questioning to annoyance.

That’s what I want…I want to feel alive, and do and think and see and say new things. But I need a good stable place to call home that balances out all of the creative crazy happening out there and in here [points at heart.]

It’s nice to live in the same house forever. I would like that.
Without the stable home you can’t find where you need to get back to.

Is that a cliffhanger? I feel like there’s more. I also feel like this is a very adolescent-no-duh blog today. Like duh, as if, H, as if.

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