Theme Week 9: More Than Words
My senses are clouded, shrouded by this burning, brilliantine shine coming, and the gold glitters. It pulls me under, down, around, yet I can't describe the taste, the touch, what I see. It feels sweet and yet, like a torture knwon to everyone. No matter how much pain and fear it may bring it is wanted, craved, and only someopne can give it to you. It brings life and death and turns you upside down and pushes you into the mud when you thought you were already beneath the soil, crawling where the worms crawl. You see it but not at all, I feel it but sometimes not at all, I can see it, but sometimes not at all. It lingers yet I don't hear its presence all of the time, and you, you hold it, and cradle it in you.
posted by Kasey @ 7:09 PM
3 Comments:
Are we talking 'love'? For my money if we're having to treat a piece of writing as if it was a riddle ('What's black and white and....), it's not working independently of its riddly quality.
I feel like I should rewrite this, kind of like that "love is..." poem, but then I'd feel as though I am duplicating, even though I
am not. Does that make sense? I didn't intend for this to be a riddle, but I feel like I'm running out of ideas to write. I think it's because I have nothing absolutely horrible going on in my life, and most of the time that is what motivates me. I'm falling behind, I know, but I'm stuck in a rut, Goldfine. I feel like I can't write. It's a horrible feeling because I really love to write. I know I'm good at it. I'm kind of at this stand still where I stare at the screen and my mind turns to poop. I don't know what to do.
Well, take a deep breath and relax. Go for a walk (wear rain gear!) Writers have rhythms of up-and-down; get used to it, ride the lows; the highs will return.
Anger, fear, depression, and tragedy aren't necessary to write, though sometimes it seems that way.
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