some words
I don’t like writing. It’s a struggle. It makes me cry. It is like a drug in the opposite sense. There is no great joy that comes from it. There is nothing good that comes out of it for me. It effects my mood. It makes me think of things that I would rather not have to think. I am constantly brought back to it. Like even now as I type it is as if there is a force pushing against the words. It is a war my mind is having with my fingers.
Imagination is the problem. Beauty makes it worse. Right now I am listening to music. It is Arabic. It is penetrating my mind taking me away from my dissention. I see circles of dancers. I see low hung lights. I see the shoes of the women in the center moving in unison. Their hands are controlling their decorative skirts. They have control. I have none.
-Markus
baba says:
I feel exactly the same way
July 29th, 2006 at 04:14 pm
Isaiah says:
imagination begets death
July 29th, 2006 at 06:21 pm
neha says:
July 31st, 2006 at 11:02 am
mark says:
what wonderful comments . . . and to neha all i have to say is: i know.
July 31st, 2006 at 12:09 pm
Neha says:
why have you stopped writing?
August 1st, 2006 at 03:18 pm