Somewhere To Write

Posted by Anonymous on 2014/02/12 under Uncategorized

I think it would be of importance to begin by introducing myself. Hi, I’m [name].. What I’ve realized in the time I thought and in the time that I wrote was that I think this text.. whatever it will be from where I am now to where I will be when I finish is something so much more pure without a name. A gender. A notion. So instead I will tell you about my surrounding. It’s cold. But only to me. Not to many others and why is because it’s a Floridian cold. A cold that isn’t so cold to most. There are two cats around me followed by a book called “The Creative Habit” by Twyla Tharp and a journal open to an unnumbered page. When I came home about half an hour ago, I was so unbelievably stressed out that I did what I needed to from a very organic place to calm myself. What I mean is that it couldn’t be studying, it couldn’t be cleaning. It couldn’t be anything I was supposed to do. Why? Because that is what I’m supposed to do. Which gives me no pleasure. Doing what I need to do only give you pleasure in the long run. I can’t think about the long run. Not right now. Not this moment. So I grabbed my book and I grabbed my journal. Recently I found a video through a very close friend called “Drinking out of Cups” which is rumored (falsely) to be an audio recording of a man on LSD locked in a closet. Although what he says is hilarious, the stream of consciousness in which he is speaking is such an incredibly amazing thing to me. Although I am (regrettably) not high on anything at the moment, I felt the need to attempt my first stream of consciousness writing. I think even as I’ve gotten this far and thinking back at what I wrote when I started, I already feel better. It’s a psychiatric meeting without the money……… I have a lot of art on my walls. I love it a lot and wish I had twice the amount I have. Why is because I love it. It’s better than paint because I feel like paint is one solid color to identify yourself and you home with. It’s not something you can stare at for more than a second. But all of this art – and the more that will come – is something I can appreciate, be inspired by, and visitors in my home can be inspired by. Even if they don’t like it, it inspired them. I feel like inspiration as a word is more than just being positively influenced to go about something. Anything really that has entered your mind and spent more time there than the stream of consciousness has influenced you. I don’t think we are as aware of ourselves as we could be. Or maybe we can’t be. However I think there is in fact more.

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