Phenoms and Monsters
The first few weeks of going back to a normal schedule were an adjustment. I think the exhaustion of pushing hard for about a year and a half caught with me.
Now, I'm wired.
I can't remember the last time I felt this way. I feel like i'm on some sort of drug. I'm getting out of bed to scribble down ideas in my note pads and am having these intense day-dreams like I used to. I spontaneously started working out again to help manage it better.
I wonder sometimes if i'm slowly becoming more of a phenom or a monster. Sometimes the stir crazy whirlwind of inspiration and ideas feels like madness. I think of the risks of indulging these irrational creative urges. The smile of a beautiful girl isn't as stunning when i'm lost in it, the charm of social comforts with close friends becomes anemic when i'm lost in it, the joy of the common and the exquisite luxuries in life take on a shade of pale when i'm lost in it. Where will this road take me if I embrace with complete reckless abandon? Then I get lost in it and no longer care to ask.
I got my first real contact with power. I can smell it now. I can pick up the aroma on my hands and lips, keyboards and notebooks. Not just any power, but the power to create. The power to turn an abstract thought lost in my brain cells into something fully expressed into reality. Not just physical reality, but the more important reality of the human collective consciousness. I caught a scent of that power and wanted more. I caught a glimpse as to what the nature of that beast actually is and wanted to look deeper in.
Maybe with no regards to the consequence, if i'm honest enough with myself to admit that. Maybe still without regard for the consequences even as I point it out to myself, if i'm honest enough with myself to admit that.
But, I don't think there's room for timidity in this life. For anyone. Life has given me a sledge hammer and I may have fallen in love with swinging it. Or madness, but I don't see much a difference of consequence. The result is the same: Swing, Swing, Swing, Swing.
Now, I'm wired.
I can't remember the last time I felt this way. I feel like i'm on some sort of drug. I'm getting out of bed to scribble down ideas in my note pads and am having these intense day-dreams like I used to. I spontaneously started working out again to help manage it better.
I wonder sometimes if i'm slowly becoming more of a phenom or a monster. Sometimes the stir crazy whirlwind of inspiration and ideas feels like madness. I think of the risks of indulging these irrational creative urges. The smile of a beautiful girl isn't as stunning when i'm lost in it, the charm of social comforts with close friends becomes anemic when i'm lost in it, the joy of the common and the exquisite luxuries in life take on a shade of pale when i'm lost in it. Where will this road take me if I embrace with complete reckless abandon? Then I get lost in it and no longer care to ask.
I got my first real contact with power. I can smell it now. I can pick up the aroma on my hands and lips, keyboards and notebooks. Not just any power, but the power to create. The power to turn an abstract thought lost in my brain cells into something fully expressed into reality. Not just physical reality, but the more important reality of the human collective consciousness. I caught a scent of that power and wanted more. I caught a glimpse as to what the nature of that beast actually is and wanted to look deeper in.
Maybe with no regards to the consequence, if i'm honest enough with myself to admit that. Maybe still without regard for the consequences even as I point it out to myself, if i'm honest enough with myself to admit that.
But, I don't think there's room for timidity in this life. For anyone. Life has given me a sledge hammer and I may have fallen in love with swinging it. Or madness, but I don't see much a difference of consequence. The result is the same: Swing, Swing, Swing, Swing.