It's been very, super-very long since I last posted.
I've been working like the devil without a clue. A man without a mission. A hitchhiker with no where to go. I've been feeling like this for a gosh darn long time, almost like a light switch where some days I'm off (no idea, just going with the flow), and others days on (very brief moments of clarity where loss and semi-depression settles from lack of light).
side note: I'm leaving my work for a time: Back injury and surgery.
Oh the trails of being a mere human and not a super hero with infinite capabilities. Than again, who wants all that responsibility? Not me.
So what will I do in these months of recovery and forced relaxation...
Write.
Something completely new. Like, a timeline of a person's life...must not give too much away. I want it to be brutal, gritty, honest, forgiving, painful, artful, and beautiful. Also laden with dark humor.
That's the plan, for now.
Time flashes by, feels like I blinked twice and it's October. Time flashes fast yet feels slow at the same time. I think the last time I posted might be a few weeks before I went to L.A. Los Angeles was great, I went there only to visit family. They're all doing well, that's as much as I can share. I love them so much, and they all live so far away. I would love to see them as much as I can.
I stayed in KTown, went to this Starbucks on Pico and Rimpau every morning for coffee and to write. I felt human again (what was I before), like pieces of my old self that I had completely forgotten about stared to cling back to me. It made me sad yet joyful.
I more or less still feel sad'ish these days. I know why in a few definites, but then I'm numb or lost in others thoughts. This fog will soon lift, I hope.
I was speaking with someone from my writing group yesterday about how being a creative person is hard. She agrees. There's never a true fit for us, unless surrounded by other creative types doing what you love, but that's never easy to find. Like, find and be paid.
Can't fake it for too long. I think the more you fake, the more of yourself gets lost. But this making money thing...kills everything. It truly is dirty. We need it to survive: eat, sleep, procreate. But then the thought of no money, paper money, a tangible currency... that's way more terrifying.
Sorry, went off track a bit.
Lift fog, lift.
