A fluke of the mind.

Last time I posted was... long enough for me not to know off the top of my head and thats bad. I see blogging as productive, I get to come up with well thought out ideas, opinions, opinions about just about anything when I blog. If there was no blog I would probably keep a journal, but thats only if I never got to know how it felt to type on a computer. I think I like typing better than writing, it gets my mind going faster by pressing keys than to hold a pen. I like pencils but only for drawing... Sorry, lets get back to the point.

Even though I wasn't blogging though, I was getting back into drawing and this type with more of a purpose than when I have ventured into the world of drawing before. This time I am determined to achieve something by applying my self to one thing, that thing being art. I had figured that by me only practicing and improving on one thing at a time, I would be able to accomplish more with my skills. If I want to make something of my writing aspirations, I would be better off to just concentrate on writing and nothing more. Sound assessment, right? I think so too. But what if you still feel the need to write something every now and then while you are trying to become a better graphical artist? Should I, then, should I just drop the drawing and go back to creating worlds out of words? I don't know...

On the other hand, why can't I just manage my time better or come up with a way to equally apply myself to writing and drawing? If its possible, why can't I just allow my self to move on with my ambition and aspirations? What would make this easier for me would be to have someone to guide me or keep me in check. But I don't want it to be someone that is making me turn in things just because I asked them to, I want someone who understand and believes in my dreams and openly accepts my plan. Someone that listens to my plan and has constructive criticism about what I would have to do to be better and what I'm trying to accomplish.

By My Self, But Not Alone...

It's been quite some time since I last wrote here. I haven't had much to write I guess, or worse, I have swallowed up anything I would've written here long ago. No matter, here I am, about to bare you my inner thoughts. I have noticed that I have become isolated from the world around me, not in the physical sense, no, but in the emotional and somewhat metal sense. You see, I happen to enjoy talking and when I meant talking, I mean lengthy talks about random stuff. Whether it be about how the different temperature of the passing seasons affect the way colors look around you, or about how in my head there are actual places where I can go and revisit. Not all of these places are nice ones to go to, however, my mind has found it necessary to make them a permanent staple in the geology of my mind.  I'm alone on those topics and more. Talking might not seem to be a very important aspect of a person's life, much less if you think that the two points I've just mentioned are of no interest to you, but when you are like me and enjoy the act of thinking and elaborating on a single strand of thought, it matters. What I like to talk about and what interests me, is, what who am I, who I like to be.

Friends and siblings I have, however, none share the interest that I have. I find my self feeling like I'm forcing my words on to them, like if what I am saying is the price to pay for knowing me and getting to spend time with and around me. No one really is listing but rather just hearing words coming out of my mouth, all they do is listen to a few words here and there and then make a comment on that one thing they actually listened to. I'm not one to make people have interest in something that doesn't interest them, let alone force interest on me. But its not their fault, no, I don't blame them. I have a rather complex view of the world, I take too much time thinking stuff over, stuff that most people would just want them to pass by and be done with them. I stare and linger at the simplest of things, I find something to talk about in anything and everything. The problem is, none of it is really a topic of conversation to those that don't see the world the same.

I've tried talking to people with "Me Mode" fully on, however, its not an aspect of me that people are drawn to, I come out as being weird or odd. Maybe I'm wrong, but then, how is it that I get to feel this way. For a certain feeling to be triggered you must be put through a certain kind of situation. If you feel fear, then you are in some uncomfortable place that holds a lot of unknown elements and that causes you to fear the place. If I feel like I do, like no one really wants to listen to what I have to say, is because I have been to that place where no one was listening, at least not to me.

Good Bye

I just noticed that this blog was about a part of me that no longer exists. Its about a time in my life that is no longer relevant to my nor do I share the same feelings with the me that wrote all this. So if you had been reading what I had said, thank you for coming and I hope you liked what I have said. It is time, however, to go off into a new place, a new state of mind and a new goal in life. TTFN, Ta ta for now.

Some time has passed.

I've been sitting her for a while, wondering what to say, how to captivate true beauty into the words I posses. Try as I might, and I've tried long enough, I can't come up with anything that would truly portray that which only she can posses. I used to be good at this, or so I though. Maybe I'm still good at it but its her that has overpowered my abilities and left my soul in a blissful shock. Or maybe, just maybe, it isn't what I see that inspires me so but rather her mystery, the thing that makes her so. If I could I would write in my words but as you can see, I'm not good anymore. Maybe Keats would fare better than I, though I don't think he would come close what it is that I'm trying to say. One day, maybe, my words will flow and my thoughts will become coherent enough to take advantage of my skill and let them all come together. One day, I shall let the world know what it is that I am trying to explain, for so much beauty can't go unnoticed, shouldn't be forgotten.