I’m bewitched by the surreal image that inspires
Fabled nightmares quivering below scattered lost empires;
I turn Humanity’s page within the fleeting light of Hope
And with despair watch both Dream and Nightmare
Bitterly elope----
where gravity steadily knocks the feet off some unwitting
dope.
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So, okay, mister big-shot, you think you can figure out how the display image I use with the writing correlates with me, huh? You know the relationship/symbolism is, don't you?
Whenever I was in Language Arts and the teacher would read us a story the class would be required to go through discussions on what the author was trying to convey, you all know that routine, we've all been through it.
-----I HATED that part of class with a passion. Why can't it be seen as a story? Why does it have to be a gateway into the writer's personal past and feelings? Why does it have to be something insightful, something that's held up on a pedestal gleaming with banners flying high, like you just discovered the holy grail in literature? Let's take Shakespeare; remarkable writer with beautiful words. That's it. He's just a storyteller; romantic and poetic, but a storyteller. Not someone to worship and seen as the one who has the answers to all philosophical questions on love and yaddy-yaddy-yadda...
Com'on people. Seriously.
***
That's how I use to feel. Now I'm just, "Er, fuck it. If you wanna dissect my work and see if it relates to me in anyway, feel free, kiddies."
To those wanting to be Literary-Psychologists yearning to dissect us writers: It shan't be an easy task, mind you, since most of our work is just playful storytelling and using the imagination ;p
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