(the beginning of the beautiful 15 ft long ivy plant given to me by my grandma...all i could think was, please don't let me kill it...)o.m.g.
i'm writing again.
and it feels incredible...
like an itch that's needed to be scratched for so long, that i've never been able to reach...
ya know the kind way down in your kneecap...yeah. it's like that.
i mean, sure, i'm writing here...and it's for all to see. but the stuff beneath what's visible in this surface blog are the things that write the history books. they're the things that people dig for for years and are priceless to whomever may be in the market for them; but, to the rest of the world, they're most likely just garbage--however, to someone who's been looking, there's unimaginable wealth in that find. in my letters, my sentences, my paragraphs...it's simply sorting through all my brain can't seem to figure out...and to me, that's priceless.
i'm quite certain my studio room has now made way for a writer's den as i seem to lose myself in here for hours at night lately. i know this will fade--as i'd be a fool to believe, or put stock in, anything otherwise; but, for now, i will ride this wave...because when it breaks, through past experience, i know that catching a new one may prove to be impossible for many moons to come.
i thank my writer's brain for never leaving me...only being muffled temporarily by all the noise around it.
i thank my writer's brain for sifting through the insanity, only to find a deeper insanity that keeps it effortlessly, and eternally, inspired...
that kinda sounded like an emmy acceptance speech. it wasn't meant to be...as mostly, i'm not even sure what an emmy is. is that music? no. that's a grammy, right? it must be tv or movies then. hmm. there is a google bar up there ^^^. but yeah. i don't even care enough to spend the ten seconds it would take to figure it out...
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