there was a time most recently where i wondered if i had lost my muse and if writing was simply a luxury for my darkest times . .
i've realized that it doesn't have to be so and there may be more creativity left in me . . even in the stable and normally regular times in life
stable and normally regular, bring with it connotations that include a similarity to other like comparable entities . . . unfortunately my arrogant self righteous uniqueness will at times forbid me from aligning myself with any definable entity . . therein lies the answer to my writing woes . . . therein i can rise like a phoenix (excuse the drama, i've been watching harry potter) and reclaim that which is my voice, stifled for the last long months . . .
when so many days go by and you've hardly had a chance to glance at a calender, it's time to sit and ponder what's passing you by and what's important in your life you may be missing . . it is time for me . . sometimes it is a constant battle . . sometimes the immediate importance of work or rest have to take a back seat when i look at my big picture and realize i will have remembered none of the work and all of the meaningful moments . . well hopefully all . . this is when i have to prioritize and hope for the best in the things i put lower on that list
i recently started rewatching six feet under . . . and it moves me like it did and it moves me like it didn't and it doesn't stir parts of me that it used to . . . there is such a matter of fact and direct lifeline to death in this series that i find it useful to connect and channel my past and current pain . . sometimes when i try to prepare myself for future pain, that doesn't channel quite as well . . but here and now, in sporadic moments i feel the gut wrench of future bad news and it just about doubles me over
more on this later, battery is dying, how anticlimactic