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 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
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The Idiotic Ideate?? Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.) Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter. if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it. We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray. "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone "It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely." "You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself." ![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
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Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)    "...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires. I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD. My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out. I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are. Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life. I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me. A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about... |
| A new 'Let's be real' session with myself, in an open forum... There's this ruminating about THE novel. I look at it from all angles and wonder about my mentality that forces me into this dance around it. I look it up one side and the other, barely interacting with the idea, basic premise, the inner workings. I'm not really inspecting it, but the idea of its purpose. As its master, the need for its creation. Then, I travel down an avenue about writing fiction. It could open discussion to further delay this project: Does one who desires to be an architect of a story need to be an avid reader of fiction? To break it down further. I read non-fiction. I've learned this is a trait of a person of my particular psychological makeup. Does this mean my aversion to reading novels is a reason why I don't have the right mind to write a full length manuscript of fiction? Here's what I know and struggle with. It's not that I don't understand the construct of characters, setting, conflict and resolution or even elements of foreboding, symbolism and developing a subject of worth with context that a reader can appreciate. I can write a hook and I can summarize story. I cannot, however, create an alternate universe with its own parameters, reality, sets of beliefs and morals with assumed characters without feeling phony, not true enough to reality. Not true enough to my own experiences without embellishing and getting lost in my way and what direction a story could go. Yes, I could plot a course with outline and characters with things to do. What if I want to deviate or try to make them seem real? What if I just want to write my own story and then change all the names when I'm done, because it feels fake if I change just one detail about them, including any attribution. And that's when I run into this wall of recall. I have to make up words they said, can barely paraphrase. It starts to feel fake again. I'm like some Holden Caulfield who is at war with himself. I'm in my own paradox. I suddenly want to create alternate timelines with any story where my fictional charcters and real characters run into each other and turn to me, their master, and ask what the hell I'm doing. It's odd that this surreal world I'm in is blocked before I can take my fictional creations any further than a sudden outburst of words that dead-end when I've written into these corners of the mind. I see an opportunity with Nano Prep. I stopped myself from signing up because the entry form felt a little confusing what I was committing to. I had to give that some thought. So, while I put all things on hold while my life is on hold, I get trapped. I turn to the easy things to write and distract myself instead. But here's the other thing. Year in and year out I talk with her about my desire to write a novel...The novel. Year after year her interest wanes more. I realize it's gotten to the 'Uh-huh, that's nice dear' phase of this conversation. The point where I have to completely drop it. Now, my motivation is just, write it and surprise her. But here again is me going toward something for the wrong reasons. I need to believe in the project foremost for myself. I have to work out these obstacles I place before me, as I'm questioning if I have the right head for fiction. I'm not organized. I'm easily distracted. My head is a clutter. I can't focus when I should. I need rewards that leave me in limbo. I should just want to do this for myself. i should not want to do this to shove in someone's face. I need a clear vision, clear goals, to make a path toward something that could be realized and completed. I feel I don't even know my own mind well enough in this self-analyzing psychosis pending state of reality I'm in. I'll keep hashing it out in blogs and mindless musings, while I wait for a reality check. 9.17.20 Hi, my name is Brian. You may have encountered me running in and out of areas of Writing.Com where i mostly feel like Chang on an episode of Community where my reality seems to be that of a ghost. Since I'm invisible to most of you, I decide to act the part and rattle my chains. Be all big and scary. But for the indifferent...well, they won't see this anyway. I'm likely Schizophrenic, so take that with a grain of psychoanalytical salt. |
| You know that time literally stops when you're on Writing.Com? But, the moment you duck out time immediately - snaps - back. Whooosh! This time expansion forces me to miss daylight, chores from the list, that judgmental clock on the wall. Perhaps, an entire season or a year could go by with nothing to recall. I wonder the why of it all. Perhaps, when I wake tomorrow, I'll skip the coffee and the computer. Perhaps, I'll wake up one day and you won't be there. I'll be in that other dimension I avoided, the place I was meant to be. dream on 9.17.20 "Newsfeed Poem"  |
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In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
