March 2011
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I cannot speak in other writers’ names, but for me, writing is very much an aesthetic activity like composing or painting or directing. Because you are creating something that will influence people; you’re releasing these ideas like little melodies, and you are changing the makeup of the world. So it is your responsibility to sculpture your words in a way that can be arranged like a garden by the...
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If everyone in the world could magically hear your voice audibly at the same time… but you could only say one sentence… what would you tell people?
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“It’s not worth doing something unless someone, somewhere, would much rather you...”
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Take today off from dwelling on shitty things. Do what you want to do, and be who you want to be. Everything is good today. Everything is good.
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I wish I could pound my fists down on the keyboard and you would understand what I was trying to say, like you could decipher the silences between my deep sighs and breaths and read the furrow in my brow. I know it’s not as simple as that, but Edison found one hundred ways not to make a light bulb before he figured out how to, and that’s the way I see this. I’m no Edison, no Washington-Carver, and...
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“We make our world significant by the courage of our questions and the depth of...”
– Carl Sagan
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My body is so exhausted that I feel like it could collapse into oblivion any second, but my mind is completely alert, trying to out race itself. If I close my eyes, I start seeing my thoughts, and I that is the last thing I want. I want to see a blank canvas and a new beginning.
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I Was Here.
I was trying to figure out today why I am writing. Why do we write memoirs, diaries, or journals? Maybe for the same reason we carve our names into wood and sign guest books at exhibitions; to convince the world that we existed at some point, to the extent that it is possible to exist as a human being. “I was here, and these are the things that happened to me, I swear, I lived through this. Can...
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I like how when you share a thought, your ideas drift off, and from then on, they have a life of their own.
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“And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
– Friedrich Nietzsche
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“Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is...”
– Leonard Cohen
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What are the chances of you coming across a particular pair of shoes that you absolutely love? Something that totally fits your personality and shoe size. A perfect fit of a shoe. Or a song. Or a painting. Or a book. Or a person. I am starting to think that these things are not coincidental.
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“I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse,...”
– Virginia Woolf
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“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the...”
– Friedrich Nietzsche
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There are an estimated 6.802 billion people on this planet, so you will find someone. You will find someone to love, and to love you in return because it is inevitable and worth believing in. I have never believed in anything more.
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It’s fascinating how for every artist, art is a way of dealing with real life. You cannot quite understand or handle what’s going on, so you have to make up something that makes sense to you; may it be your best attempt to draw or take a picture or to write a song, a poem, or a book.
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I feel really stuck inside my head. I wish someone would pull me out.
