Writer's Block: Beyond Our Ken
The Economy problem in my senior year graduation test: the most frightful and inexplicable thing I ever saw.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Parotid Gland And Alcohol
I wonder
Where am I going?
I just saw this movie with Natalie Portman about a magic toy shop and I realized that, just like the main character, I need a cube made out of wood.
This last period of my life has been intense, psychologically speaking.
I'm kinda modifying the way my thoughts translate into actions; or better, I'm working on my motives for doing things.
It's like my life develops on a day to day basis and responds to simple needs, such as a very transitional fulfillment of the over present need of being "Ok".
But while I may experience some temporary joy from a direct approach to tiny entertainments (the prospect of watching a nice episode of a series, a book, a song, a walk, an occasional drawing...) I still don't feel happy.
The reason is because I'm searching happiness in a wrong place, or that I'm looking for it in the first place.
I have limits that I can't really see, but that I feel the need to overcome.
It's to do... the thing.
What's the thing you say? The hell I know.
I just feel that there's.
There is this thing, the thing I want so desperately do, a thing I crave for but I'm not ready to reach.
I'm not even on the way of pursuing it.
Freedom, I tasted it; what do I do with it?
Enjoy living, do I?
No, I just sit quietly, watching inner expectations go awry by themselves.
What's my natural inclination?
I mock things, I draw things, I write things, I picture things in hypothetical situations, I picture hypothetical lives, roads, choices adding elements I take randomly from a pool of... I don't take them randomly, I apply a pattern that I've already seen somewhere.
Is my fantasizing affecting my way of seeing reality?
I'm not using my imagination per se, I'm dreaming things.
I use memories to make up things.
But why? Is that all?
Is there an answer for this anyway?
Where am I going?
I just saw this movie with Natalie Portman about a magic toy shop and I realized that, just like the main character, I need a cube made out of wood.
This last period of my life has been intense, psychologically speaking.
I'm kinda modifying the way my thoughts translate into actions; or better, I'm working on my motives for doing things.
It's like my life develops on a day to day basis and responds to simple needs, such as a very transitional fulfillment of the over present need of being "Ok".
But while I may experience some temporary joy from a direct approach to tiny entertainments (the prospect of watching a nice episode of a series, a book, a song, a walk, an occasional drawing...) I still don't feel happy.
The reason is because I'm searching happiness in a wrong place, or that I'm looking for it in the first place.
I have limits that I can't really see, but that I feel the need to overcome.
It's to do... the thing.
What's the thing you say? The hell I know.
I just feel that there's.
There is this thing, the thing I want so desperately do, a thing I crave for but I'm not ready to reach.
I'm not even on the way of pursuing it.
Freedom, I tasted it; what do I do with it?
Enjoy living, do I?
No, I just sit quietly, watching inner expectations go awry by themselves.
What's my natural inclination?
I mock things, I draw things, I write things, I picture things in hypothetical situations, I picture hypothetical lives, roads, choices adding elements I take randomly from a pool of... I don't take them randomly, I apply a pattern that I've already seen somewhere.
Is my fantasizing affecting my way of seeing reality?
I'm not using my imagination per se, I'm dreaming things.
I use memories to make up things.
But why? Is that all?
Is there an answer for this anyway?
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