|Maybe I am different....
||[Mar. 31st, 2011|03:31 am]
Maybe I am different. . .
I narrate my life in my head like a book. Like a poem. Always.
It is rare a day goes by that i dont write something. That i dont come up with a line or a concept. an idea. a simile, a metaphor...
Ive read and digested so many books and poems in my lifetime. ... . .theyve nourished me and i have grown from them. They have sustained me. Made me.
I write because I cant stop. It isnt a choice. It isnt something i make myself do.
Every now and again, i think people believe I am legitimately insane.
but then i rest assured that even if i am, thats ok. the greatest have always been the maddest. From Dali to Lady Gaga. . . .we're all mad here.
The ideas come to me and i have a small window of time to do my brain a favor and jot them down before theyve been replaced by the next onslaught.
So when people ask me. . .how long have you been writing. . ..or....you write every day? I dont have the discipline....
I get very confused. Because. . . .this is all i have ever known. I do not need discipline to write. The pieces will finish themselves because they will know when they need to be written. They will know when they are finished. They will tell me.
I get confused because I cant understand a mind that doesnt write every second its pulsing with energy. To me, being a writer has always meant literally being the words. Thats all i have ever been. I didnt know any other type of life existed for a writer. . .
maybe i am different. i keep company with great writers and poets. brilliant in their work and the expression of their lives. their experiences. perceptions.
and they are amazing. yet im starting to see. . . .they dont think like me. Perhaps thats what makes my style unique. . .no worse or better..just me...but i also wonder. .. . is this the difference i need to set me apart? so that my star may rise?
Mark these words. You'll be reading them later.