constipation of creativity vs verbal diarrhoea
im thinking ...what is better let flow a volley of words with no significance and meaning or hibernate with sleeping words hoping they would emerge colourful and beautiful like an unexpected rainbow.
after i wrote 'sunswallower' i was thinking to myself, a writer has been born. too long he lay in solitary suffocation. he had found words to whir him to life, alive he cried. words ran thru his veins and pumped new found rocket fuel into his heart. his senses open he felt everything in a heightened state of awareness.
sounds and sights, people and places taking on new meanings, like a microscopic being coming to life after being magnified- manifold. now im jaded already, super faded and growing insane. time to sip sorrow with my familiar friends frustration and boredom. i need a word wand, to conjure images seldom seen or consumed.
need a permanent membership to the wizard of words club. cant stand this paralyzing feeling being perpetuated by the guest in my head mr. kreativity killer.
there shall come upon me a moment, when will everything will appear crystal clear and i will throw a party to my agent miss. muse and her friends clairyovance, imagination and enterprise.
strike me soon dear muse.