Over the past couple of months you could say I have sought of changed. Both my writing and my views were confined to certain genre's and subjects. Overtime, you could say I have been opened up to the full spectrum of life- light, dark, and spectral as a prism.
The problem is...how do I say it, write it, or show it? The mystery and the allure of life lies in the inadequate but reaching comprehensions of the mysteries of all these things. Between the past, the present, and the future...between the body, the mind, and the soul. Between matter and energy...infinity and the finite...everyday living...everyday life. Joys, pains, triumphs, shames...
I could almost say I feel like I have explored so much and have been able to let go of the smaller things in order to reach for the larger. I almost let this site go as well. But I really like reading peoples work. I think the best ideas come from new, unaccomplished writers.
The hardest part is to gain this perspective and still want something in particular- knowing that such a thing is ultimately useless and futile. A preoccupation of sorts. No, I'm not New Age or any kind of weird religious anything. It just happens to be the case that when you look beyond yourself, you lose perspective of whats right beneath you. Perhaps even of yourself.
And yet after this it felt like I lost that perspective as soon as I started writing again. It felt like I had to make a choice of simply floating in that exploration or grounding myself and forever looking at it through hindsight. Always wondering, but never able to know. In order to fly, you really do have to drop the weight. I've discovered that fear, deep insecurity, and the concept of loss of things known, owned, or something of the like are what prevents most people from reaching...into that wilderness of the unknown, the mysterious, and- deep down- the infinitely more exciting part of life; Chance, unplanned adventure, and spontaneous discovery.
Weirdly enough, my writing seems more like a weight preventing me from experiencing and exploring life. I'm fine reading peoples writings from time to time but I feel much better when I am something to write about rather than writing. It's a weird predicament in a way. I think I may start up writing again when I am older. I really do have a story I want to tell but it seems less and less important. I may do some poetry from time to time, but outside of that, unless I find something I can't write about, perhaps I am not so much the writer I thought I was. Merely curious or a shallow practitioner.
Either way, I can say that there have been writings on this site and people from this site that have been a part of my collection of good experiences and I'm always willing to add to them.
Many thanks, WF, many times.
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