my goal for now is to be interested in something, but I have not cared about tv in a lot of days, and I am completely over the concept of slash, which was the glue that kept me here, and the gas that kept me going.
so what shall I do to create? and be a person, still capable of it. I will move on and up, to something much less unusual.
there is s story in me, I just have to find it.
perhaps it is the age, one is supposed to stop writing fan fiction after enough years have passed. but fiction, I wish I had never lost that.
two years of no new words have passed me. but I continue to oscillate, like a kitchen ceiling fan just before the fall. of the kitchen ceiling fan, you see.
what I need is something that can be kept, but it must be fiction, although my patience for it grows only thinner and thinner with age and time.
something should be done, and I should stop eating for it! I must learn to breath in new fiction in a new way! the time of my past youth, that I cannot over come because I seem to think it is a mountain, must be both maintained and conquered. I must not lose one more night to it!
this crashing noise auditing out of my brain must be honed, and by that I mean given a home, and by that I mean, take me home!
don't leave me here where everything is dead, although this is the place of my dreams.
I am losing myself. which is all I have, so I've heard.
so I think I will break it! this wall. this fucking wall that drags me deeper with every continental shift of the planet and stars, even while I am aware that makes no sense, the sense is what's fucking this all up anyway.
a page full of words can often, easily mean nothing. and I don't mean nothing to anyone, I mean nothing at all. and so what I must do, is a thing.
what I must do, is break it down.
this fear is nominal, a base rate to be. it must be paid, or no progress can be made. life is not fair, we are not at the fare, do not look for pony rides.
second, a hole must be dug. one that will be exceptionally difficult to get out of, and I need to get stuck there. and in this hole the heat will sink in and I will learn how to love on the streets of reseda. whatever that will mean, at the time.
third, all things must shift. either slightly to the left, or slightly to the right. I must remember that I can type! and that these keys are my rain, and these words can make homes. because that is what I have been losing this whole time, my home. do not let yourself forget how important a home is. do not lose that.
fourth, solutions will be treated with alcohol and drugs. not problems! mind you, solutions. and that is one of the highest points on the wall! the no sleep point, the "do you really love me" point, the how the hell does one really see what really is from this toptop?
five: words will lose what they once had. that, is a lie.
five: all will be lost. this rule is old, and I knew from when I was very young, and I have not always lived by it. and often I love it, and I forget where it is because I'm so fucking busy trying to find myself that I lose it.
six. reside in a comma, learn to be less common, find new words to erode the wall with, then break it the fuck down. and build anew.
the wall will always be, there will only ever be less wall, but never no wall. that is important to know. so long as the wall is, then something can be feared, and something can be free that is not. the wall is for you, not them. the wall is for your heart, not your lungs and your ability to breath. the wall is for the keys that click away so quietly underneath me, the wall is for my eyes in natural light.
seven the wall is important, but do not love it. you must fall in love in the hole, not the wall. the hole is for love and looseness, for one to be so very unhappy. the wall re-reads, the hole does not.
learn the difference between them, do not think them the same, similar, or related.
the hole is a place to learn, the wall is a place to conquer. the wall does not know how to fall in love again. the wall is too strong at the top to make it to the sky.
eight. the hole will love you back. the hole will dirty your spirit and your soul, to remind you that you still have them! the hole wants you to be alive! when the day hits and shadows appear at the base that dance so well.
nine. there is still time yet to believe in them both. there is still time to believe. in the word, and the cause, and the notion, and the time. when the floor shakes with steps that are not yours, make them your own. find time to be empty, and time to be full.