3/2/23

 3/2/23

I can't seem to write about anything today. Have I used every word in my vocabulary? Impossible. 

I'm experiencing writer's block for the first time. I have to say it's very frustrating not knowing what to write. This might not ever result in anything good. I would say it's necessary for me to go through this but I don't like the idea of working. Casualness is the reason for my writing, I don't want to spread a bigger message when I write. I just want to talk. If I try to say something, personal writing comes to be more difficult. My writer's block is usually desire to write but paralyzed by exhausion or procrastination because I turn the act of creation (something good) into the act of necessary work (burdensome). I haven't been feeling my best today, figuratively and literally. I've been trying to write something yet the words can't just seem to flow out of my hand correctly, as if I have nothing to say. Even if I try to write something down in my current state, ink spilled upon a paper would have much more substantial things to say. 


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I took the long walk home today, that seemed to get rid of my writer's block.

I stayed near school extra long today, there was too many people to talk to that I ended up losing track of time. My friend got run over, I mean got hit by a motorcycle. No major injuries or anything, just trauma to cross the road again. May time bless her with grace and teach her how to cross the road. 


During my walk home I saw a kid skateboarding. Wanted to compliment the guy so I threw a thumbs up, he gave me a thumbs up back. 

During my walk home I was listening to a Lamp song. I love Lamp, they make me so happy every time I listen to them I can't help but frolic when I walk. 


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I don't like how we look at most historical figures, I don't like how we conceptualize most of them to be serious, no fun, busy men. I imagine alot of them would probably laugh at the stupid jokes we make too, that's why reading someone like Aristophanes is humbling in a way. His works help me realize that people have always laughed at stupid things and that it's human nature to be silly. We’ve always been this dumb, it's just that our silliness of day to day life tends to get left unattended. Imagine all the fantastic little jokes and throwaway humor plays that have been lost to time, only the serious things remain.


I'll never know about the limit of the variety of sounds the world can make. 

That thought used to overwhelm me for a while, until I realize that's the best way for life to be enjoyed. A life spent constantly learning and absorbing is a life worth living.

The problem with this that I have to constantly remind myself this. My subconsciousness wants life to be so overwhelming when it's so much easier to look at it in a way that's special. 


I want to write better than I do right now. It's satisfying whenever I finish writing, read the whole thing while imagining how other people would feel reading my works. But my works never feel like I made them, they never feel like something I would make. I think that's natural, no one ever owns their writing. No one ever has their own true style. Everyone is influenced by something. The influence is there, it's your job as the creator to be a catalyst, a vessel for that influence. I want to feel like I've created something that's entirely from a piece of my body as the feather with my blood as the ink. I want to take my life away from me, and transfer it to words. This body is limited, turning it into art would immortalize what I have to say. But making people see or read what I have to say isn't my goal, it never was in the first place. I of course appreciate if people do read, it always feels good when people tell me that my writing's good. But ultimately, what I want to happen to everything I write, is for me to realize how much things I take forgranted. Trying to recollect every thought in my mind and turning them into words gives me a sense of purpose.

I don't want to spread a message. I don't want to say anything. I don't want my writing to contribute anything to the world. I don't want my writings to have any significant meaning. All I want is to be connected and attached to the words I say. Trying to say anything significant is worrying about what life has to throw at me. I don't want to worry about anything. The joy of life is what you have light now, and how you interpret the past. I don't want to do something new, I don't want to make something revolutionary that would end up becoming stale if ever imitated too much. I don't want to introduce something new to the world, I don't want to bring a concept. I want to give my interpretations on concepts, I want to talk about art, I want my way of writing to reflect the feeling of experiencing art. 


I want you to know that there's no greater joy for me than to respond to art that pours into paragraphs. Especially with a work that I deeply resonate with. Please give me no apologies. 


The beauty of mankind flows through art like water through a plant. From root to vine there is that human element, the water that is the artist’s life and the life of those who inspire him; and yet in its entirety, the plant that has grown turns transcendant.


I think it's important for me to experience the art as the art first and foremost, learn from it and feel from it. I don't paint it against my life, but I see my life through it. I think it's more that I see art as a separate encounter alongside my own experience. It's not that I tie albums to experiences or experiences to albums, and it's absolutely not that music doesn't touch me. I am shaken by music. I have memories of art, I think, more than I have art thats tied to memory. I felt this great weight of beauty, this intense feeling of magic, of creativity The way that the artists create their lines, the smoothness, beauty, and fluidity of it. I felt this sense of time and life as water. I've carried that with me.


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I'm really happy you exist. I'm really happy that you always take the time to read what I write even if it's only for five minutes. It's people like you that influence me to write about the joys and magic the world has to offer. The soul flows through the heart then through the mind, that's how I think art presents itself.

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