There's always a bigger picture.A Story by honey*(a repost)
Back when I thought the only worthy outlet for my stuff was a canvas & some paint, I gave it my all and threw the color around in a mad fury of raw passion and emotion. Then, come to find out, there were other ways for me to get it out.
Then I discovered how much fun it is to throw words around, and even at people. Sesame Street was right all along, words ARE fun. They can be used for comfort and encouragement, and they can be used as weapons. They can tell truth and they can be shady. With words, I have been good, and I have been bad. But I've already told you that so I don't need to confess anymore.
But what I'm thinking now is, what am I not aware of, this time around? I used to think that art was the final frontier, then come to find out, writing is even better. So now what? I'm not going to limit myself again and say, "that's it, this is what I'm going to do, forever." I can't. Already I'm looking around me, thinking, what am I missing? What am I overlooking? What else is there for me? See? This is why I keep trying to get away from the computer. I just don't want to get locked into anything and miss a bigger picture. I'm assuming there is one. There has to be. Think about it, say bombs fall tomorrow and all the lights go out, what will I do? Sit in a dark corner and talk to myself? So this tells me, words are just one more thing to move through and past.
Ok. Another thing is, I'm already wanting to delete again, so if I do need to lock myself out of here, I'll post the new site up first before I do. Although it has been fun doing it the other way all this time. I have created the best matrix ever. And it's growing. And when I'm back to work and all that, and have a normal life again, I am going to laugh at what I did. At first I thought I'd regret it, but no, I think it's so absolutely ridiculous, it's wonderful. I might have to end up changing my name, though. I just heard that prospective employees are getting googled now, is this true? If so, whatever will become of me?
© 2008 honey* |
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