Quote of the Day

“There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they’re good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn’t mean you’ll be together forever. It doesn’t mean you won’t hurt each other. It just means you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.”

Laurell K. Hamilton

First thing's first

This is something I've been meaning to do for a while. I keep thinking I should have somewhere to write down anything that comes to me, and this seems like the best way.

I've tried writing things down by hand, but I end up with too much paper scattered about, and my handwriting differs so much day to day that I struggle to read it myself, especially when I lapse into lazy, half formed shorthand.

So here it is, the blog that will effectively act as a journal, a place to rant and think and get everything out, without having to avoid saying anything or writing in a certain style.

That's something I still haven't perfected, though maybe it just never feels that way, I struggle to give myself a distinctive voice when I write. I've looked over my old work, delving into the archives of music websites that I used to review records for, and my style has changed dramatically. I used to think that writing in a 'unique' way meant being a dick, or so it would seem going on some of my older material. Sure there was comedy there, and it clearly reflected my opinions, but it was so disorganised, more of a jumble than a flow.

That's also how my thoughts feel at the minute, I intended this to be a flowing blog, writing as things came to mind, but right now my mind is so jumbled that trying to find one thought to pursue is like sorting through a ball of knotted cables, just picking one thing and pulling at it does nothing but make the knots tighter, making it harder to extract the thought than before.

My emotions are doing the same thing, as soon as I feel one thing, something else competes with it, feeling happy, depressed, angry, none of those just happen on their own, they're always joined by some counteracting force that rises up from somewhere else, challenging why I feel the way I do and leaving me in flux between two states.

I sometimes think I'm just over thinking, some, probably most people, will be happy, and it will feed into whatever they're doing. I find that nearly impossible, I'm on my toes all the time, looking out for anything that could spoil my mood, while making sure that I do seem suitably happy, because otherwise the terrible, decaying feelings that run underneath the surface will start to break through.

Of course, this might be understandable if it had just been a recent feeling. Things have been incredibly difficult, I hate to sound like I'm self pitying, partly because I've been told so much that I shouldn't feel that way, because it's annoying to others. Still, in the circumstances my haywire emotions would make far more sense, but all that those recent events have done is intensify the problems, although they've also put things in perspective.

There's something so freeing about everything completely breaking down, of feeling you have nothing, and no way out. It's such a pure feeling, there's nothing else to think about, it's not despair or sadness, just a bright white shroud of adrenaline and fear, that makes everything run through your mind at a million miles an hour. I've never come so close to ending it all, but finding that way out, finding a way to carry on just envelopes you in such a feeling of relief that nothing compares.

That's not to say everything is totally behind me, there are still things lingering in my mind, urges and impulses that I have to control, to avoid further disaster, but I'm coping, in a fashion, and sometimes that's enough.

Still, the impulses are there, and I'm sometimes tempted to give in to them, just surrender myself to everything I consider doing and get them out in the open, like throwing open the floodgates and letting everything that is me, every thought I have, every action I consider come out in the open, so that at least for once, even if it's just for a moment, I'm completely myself, without any restraints or boundaries.

I think that's the most important thing about creativity, I'm no artist, but through writing and music I can bring out parts of myself that I feel I can't let out anywhere else, and there's something cathartic about that. It strips away all of the pretence, wipes away the brave face and exposes everything underneath, showing the processes and the functions rather than just the carefully planned exterior.

I have a thousand things to say, about how things have gone recently, about the love that I still feel for someone I shouldn't, and about how I lock it away because just thinking about it hurts more than I thought anything could, but I'll try to keep these entries brief, for the sake of my sleep as much as out of consideration for anyone reading it.

I don't think I can sum up that feeling better than Bukowski does.

There's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too clever, I only let him out

at night sometimes

when everybody's asleep.

I say, I know that you're there,

so don't be sad.

Then I put him back,

but he's singing a little in there,

I haven't quite let him die

and we sleep together like that

with our secret pact,

and it's nice enough to

make a man weep,

but I don't weep,

do you?