Ways of my Mind
Well, it's been a while since my last post, and I figured I should probably try to write something.
I have decided that my mind has taken a strange turn from the way it was into something new. On the average, when I was sad or happy or upset, I would typically write. I would write a poem or verse or story, something along the lines of an idea or feeling, lived out through pen on paper, and by the end, it would usually be done and I would feel better. Lately, I have realized that my drive to write this "fictional reality" has gone away. Now, when I write, I actually write the strangeness and feelings that I feel inside. It's not like I'm trying to express myself through a story anymore, it's like I am actually trying to convey the things I honestly think about. I don't know if that made sense, but it did to me.
I miss writing poetry or short stories, but when I look back, I feel like it was my way of trying to fictionalize the reality of things that were happening to me, and in doing so, I made myself semi-believe that what was happening in my life could be controlled by the way my pen stroked the paper beneath it. I felt that there may have been a way to control the outcome of a situation if I wrote it down and followed it out quicker than it was happening. That, or maybe I wanted to give it an ending that I know wouldn't happen in "real" life, because then I wouldn't have to necessarily wonder "what if". Maybe I wanted to give it the ending that would happen in "real life" because then I could attempt to prepare myself for the things which may have been inevitable when they did occur. Maybe it's my way of coping with things that seem totally and utterly out of control...I really don't know.
I know that my writing style and way of thinking has changed over the past couple months. It's scary to think they they may have changed in a deeper way. I'm thinking more abstract and darker thoughts than before. Not darker in the sense of evil (well maybe a little bit) but darker into the more ambiguous and unknown aspects of life. And in doing so, my mind is overdriving itself in ways that I can more easily handle. Instead of my mind running rampant on the things that actually surround me on a day to day basis, it's going to town on the things that just make ya go "hmmm", the things that others never think of because they are afraid to step out of the box...But most importantly, the things that no one wants to think of, because they're afraid of what will happen when they do...
I have decided that my mind has taken a strange turn from the way it was into something new. On the average, when I was sad or happy or upset, I would typically write. I would write a poem or verse or story, something along the lines of an idea or feeling, lived out through pen on paper, and by the end, it would usually be done and I would feel better. Lately, I have realized that my drive to write this "fictional reality" has gone away. Now, when I write, I actually write the strangeness and feelings that I feel inside. It's not like I'm trying to express myself through a story anymore, it's like I am actually trying to convey the things I honestly think about. I don't know if that made sense, but it did to me.
I miss writing poetry or short stories, but when I look back, I feel like it was my way of trying to fictionalize the reality of things that were happening to me, and in doing so, I made myself semi-believe that what was happening in my life could be controlled by the way my pen stroked the paper beneath it. I felt that there may have been a way to control the outcome of a situation if I wrote it down and followed it out quicker than it was happening. That, or maybe I wanted to give it an ending that I know wouldn't happen in "real" life, because then I wouldn't have to necessarily wonder "what if". Maybe I wanted to give it the ending that would happen in "real life" because then I could attempt to prepare myself for the things which may have been inevitable when they did occur. Maybe it's my way of coping with things that seem totally and utterly out of control...I really don't know.
I know that my writing style and way of thinking has changed over the past couple months. It's scary to think they they may have changed in a deeper way. I'm thinking more abstract and darker thoughts than before. Not darker in the sense of evil (well maybe a little bit) but darker into the more ambiguous and unknown aspects of life. And in doing so, my mind is overdriving itself in ways that I can more easily handle. Instead of my mind running rampant on the things that actually surround me on a day to day basis, it's going to town on the things that just make ya go "hmmm", the things that others never think of because they are afraid to step out of the box...But most importantly, the things that no one wants to think of, because they're afraid of what will happen when they do...
posted by Ill-Fated Butterfly at 10:41 AM
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