Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Cornucopiocity.




Sometimes, it seems like there is so much going on that there is no time for the important things - like art, writing, and freedom. Time must be made for the necessary, as is the nature of such things, but important? It gets thrown by the wayside.
Many very intelligent people argue that a healthy mind IS a necessity- and I agree - but the world I live in is one of survival; bills, nutrition, career planning & social obligations can consume an entire day, a day which then repeats, and repeats, and repeats until you have forgotten what it feels like to fill a white expanse with pigment, let alone sleep peacefully.
At this point, the soul unleashes its own survival instincts.
I am at such a point - all the creative energy I've been suppressing is taking over my brain, and I have no control over it anymore. The small amount of discretion I've been able to cultivate in my 24 years is unwittingly censored- and reveling in the most extreme of gluttonous impulses.
In the last week have consumed far more calories than my body needs, drank far more alcohol than my cells can work with -don't even get me started with cigarettes - and my clean laundry has been sitting where I placed it when I got home from washing it. I'm a millimeter from getting a new tattoo, and even closer to cutting all ties and losing myself in the woods for a couple weeks. Responsibilities,shunned.
Where is the answer?

1 comment:

Meg said...

When you can't fight the creativity any longer, you need to just let it loose and enjoy the ride!

I think the ugly part of "Growing up" is learning to harness said creative monster and disperse it in appropriate amounts (something I myself have issues with).