wildseven

It's like in one of those old cartoons. When the character, in a feeble attempt to avert an imminent flood, shoves a cork into the tap in order to stop the water coming out. The metal starts to deform and balloon like a strip of thin elastic rubber, before, inevitably it bursts and fills the house up in an instant, breaking open the door, spraying out the windows. Or, I hope it's not like that, actually. Since I'll be the one doing the bursting. And the bursting will refer to my brain. And I don't really want my brain to burst, before I can make or create anything of any significance. The water, in this analogy, is my creativity. And the tap, albeit the completely malfunctioning one, serves as my creative tools. Or the shelf of my creative tools. The body, if you will. But wait... In my original analogy the tap bursting symbolised my brain bursting. Okay, an ordinary, real tap is my physical body and the one in the cartoon, the completely unrealistic, ballooning out one is my mental, non-physical body. They're both technically the same tap, but one exists outside reality and one exists. Detracting from my own point, yes. The cork is in. And, sometimes, I fear it'll always be there. For as long as I can remember, the flood has been trying to happen. But the water just keeps building up. Maybe it's the fact that my tap is so corroded, compared to other people. I'm not using that as an excuse, but I think I have a legitimate claim to bring it up. Mostly because I don't think it's helped matters. First, let's talk about the brain. Or the division of the brain. Between left and right. Trying to think logically about how to go about creating artistic things, really defeats the purpose of being creatively passionate. Those sides are supposed to be mutually exclusive, but, alas, I can't work like that. Me. I'm not talking about disabled people in general, as there are rather a lot of disabled artists. I don't really have the energy to think logically about how I'm going to create something. I can do one or the other, but the necessity of having to work out how to facilitate the creative process is too much... Is that the cork? Nah, that'd be far too easy. But water building up like that does tend to have it's stresses on the tap, both physical and non-physical. Maybe my cartoon one's completely inflated, like a bladder after 10 pints without a piss... I'm trying to say what I think from now on. The first analogy that springs to mind, instead of the next, more socially acceptable analogy. Sometimes it feels that way. I envy people who don't have to pass an initial test in order to unleash their creative water. They can just let it all spray and flow all over the canvas or the sketchpad, the digital CCD or actual photographic film, without having to wonder how to set things up to make that possible. Hold the camera up to properly catch the sunlight that illuminates your chosen subject. You don't really have to set it up, just intuite the proper set up (if you're artistic enough) and orient yourself to do it. It's annoying. Having to think around it. That often drains all the energy that might have gone to removing the cork. Am I making any sense? No I don't much think I am...The energy and enthusiasm that I muster up to tackle the problem of not being all that creative, always seems to be squandered on the lead up to it, and never on the creativity itself. A few exceptions, mostly all of which have been for my lady (we've talked it through and she's okay with that title), but nowhere near as much as I'd like to have under my belt. I'm not really complaining (but I really, really am), but it's an idea I've been unable to shake off recently... That's why I felt the urge to write this meandering thing...

I've started watching Six Feet Under. I don't know why it took me so long to start, as it seems to be right up my alley, but so far it's better than I thought it would be. Something about death is just unbelievably fascinating... And that's with an atheist viewpoint, one of becoming worm food afterwards. However, this is a television program. And death is only really a side/after-thought. Well it's technically a primary plot point, but it's dealt with only briefly, as it tends to follow living characters most of the time. And, in typical HBO fashion, it's brilliantly interesting. Just the right dose of freaky weirdos trying not to fit in. Which is somebody I'd like to be one day, if I can shed this skin of caring about what people think... Well, by that I mean people I don't like or know. The unimportant type of people. I could dance around it a bit more (figuratively, of course), but what's the point. I don't like a lot of people. For whatever reason. Until I know them, I suppose. Maybe it's the sheer amount of differences that have marred my personability with other people. Or the fact that I'm grumpy. Maybe I don't really not like people. Maybe it's just that people are intricately tied into things I don't like, so the not-liking (since hatred is a bit extreme) follows logically...I really like Six Feet Under, mainly because of how deadpan it is. Pun intended. The intro for instance is absolutely hilarious (most of the time). Horrible, yes, but funny. You can't help but stifle a chuckle (except for the particularly shitty deaths), at how terribly and unfairly peoples' lives tend to end. Perhaps it's the dark shadow of melancholy and grumpy air, the same that influences my music (evil laugh from Track 2 (Loke) off the Enslaved album, Frost. Skip forward to 4:00 if you don't like black metal vocals, to hear the evil laugh), that makes it so fascinating. How life can be so fleeting. Or something that doesn't sound melodramatic.



I think I need to start taking arsehole lessons. Because, to a certain extent, confidence requires the user to be kind of rude and stand-offish. The people who strike you as confident always tend to have a little edge to how they talk about people. Or to people. Or how they even talk about things they're passionate about. I'm not confident, when it comes to doing things outside typing. My physical presence tends to be somewhat diminished, compared to my typing self. But that's not really relevant. That's why I've been trying to express my opinion a little more coherently than I have in the past. Believe it or not, I think that type of anger helps. Helps one, me in this case, to develop a complex web of actual opinion... I'm rather angry about certain things (religion, some aspects of music, most MILITARY ACTION) and because of that, I tend to be more interested in forming an opinion about those subjects. Sure, it does lead me to develop a somewhat one-sided opinion, but the other side, the one I don't necessarily agree with, can wait until a later date... Or, if I'm feeling lazy, not at all. Maybe one day I'll compile all those arguments into something digestable. All my opinions on religion, music, people, death and 'life', which is rarely good... Manifesto (I'm borrowing from Marx, though the word has been used for many, many other things) is a bit strong, but meh... Melodrama seems to be a common theme with society these days...