The American writer, Mark: The American writer, Mark Twain, once likened inspiration to a well which, from time to time, needs to be replenished fresh water from the spring that feeds it. He wrote that the feeling of loosing inspiration, to which you alluded above, is really only one of those times when the replenishment needs a little time to refill the well. This, Mark Twain, suggested was natural.
Or, if you like, read Mary Shelley's "Introduction" to the 1831 edition of Frankenstein, in which she describes the initial lack of inspiration followed by the sudden shock of its arrival.
Or Wallace Stevens, whose poetic inspiration faltered, in 1923 with the commercial and critical failure of his first book of poems, and remainded silent until approximately 1929, when a new surge of inspiration approached and remained with him until his death in 1955.
What Goes On: in the mind of one who has killed one life or many - a poem for reflection. Vengeance breeds retaliation which is why I am pro-gun ownership by citizens. I want the biggest fasted deliverer of death every created available. If anyone comes looking for retribution in mass, managing to get past homeland and the military to reach our doors to squeeze triggers and acquire anything, I want to greet them with a warm welcome. Could I kill? Oh yeah. Will I burn in hell for it? I take the fifth. .
~allets~
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Interesting reflection on a sliver of your existance : ..which is trying to drive itself into the center of your life. Yet, I somehow doubt you're most meaningful memories are stored on facebook. Additionally, if we recognize our chosen words of yesterday as less mature than we wish they were, then we're doing something right - growing : ) All the best to you.
If you can write out the struggle,: ..which you have done incredibly well, as far as I can see, then you can - piece by piece - get to solutions that feed the deepest, most meaningful desires of your soul. Traps are laid for all of us by the world we live in, and I'm not sure that any of us can possibly avoid them. But feeling their jaws and teeth means you are so very much alive, and the energy will be there to pry yourself free.
A feeling emanates: ..that your lips, a coconut shell, and the sun a fierce machete. Or is that just how I feel when I spend too many hours in the field without proper hydration and my lips crack Either way, the thought brought to me by your words.
Sometimes, inspiration seems to wander into a desert. That is when survival kicks in and keeps us going, until the oasis appears. The beautiful thing about writing is that the effect is just as good if the oasis is a mirage, as when it's real. ; )
And: Self-denial, hard for a species dedicated to hiearchic lifestyles. We think in tiers climbing in search of ultimate security/happiness. while some of us attain it, most never will. I give you: HOMO SAPIEN.
.
~A~.
Cycle: Repeatng a down-spiral
cadence as familiar as pass
me a paper cup. Mom
had four of us under one
hand and a drink in the other.
She taught me how to love
reading novels before she
vanished. .
~A~.