Emotions. All over the page. Feelings splayed everywhere. Like the legs of a lazy chair. Creativity running dry. Need an idea; something to spark the tip of my pen and set my mind to racing. Once racing I'll need some fuel. No NASCAR champion ever became that way on one tank of gas. They also never stopped, because then cars start passing, and ideas stop flowing. The brain loses interest, and falls prey to facebook, youtube, or some other form of deadly time predator.
It's a weird feeling when the brain and mind conflict. I don't know many who suffer this sort of torture, but I endure it almost daily. I find my mind trying to hit the daily grind again and again with ideas through the roof-the roof being my skull-and my brain will repeatedly refuse to provide material with which to support said ideas, and they then begin to argue about how feasible the idea is in the first place. When this happens I begin to write the ideas in spite of everything, and end up having ridiculous ramblings like the one you are currently forcing yourself to read.
I don't mean forcing in a bad way, but you wouldn't be reading if you weren't telling your brain to read now would you? I wish I had that sort of control over my brain. It would make writing SO much easier.
But here I sit: pen still moving furiously and my mind and brain still having a go at eachother-it's giving me something close to a headache-and all I wanted to do was tell Melissa Smith what a wonderful person I think she is.
Isaac, it would be interesting to write about this inner struggle. I bet some really good dialogue can come of this.
ReplyDelete