Memories of Moments of Inspiration
Being nostalgic can have its side effects of comparison. I wonder what caused me to give up writing? To give up an expression of myself, to give up the stories I wanted to share? Did I loose my ability to write? To eloquently describe a scene, a feeling, or a thought? Did I just use "Writer's Block" as an excuse for loosing my muse or inspiration?
Was it a temporary talent for a rebellious frustrated emotional teenager and now that I've grown I've lost the insanity of youth that plagued/inspired my best work? Have I lost roots of myself during my journey and if so can I ever get them back?
A great friend once said "Forget about the people from the past, there's a reason they didn't make it to your future...". If that's the case then why can't I recall how to write the way I did then with those people who changed pieces of me...It should be like riding a bike, written in code in your soul but when I stare at a blank piece of paper I give up before I begin. Poems, songs, stories....I haven't written anything in years and every time I try I feel lost with no map back.
I remember long nights at Barnes and nobles, finding my beliefs, myself, all in a cafe in the bookstore. I remember afternoons under a tree with a book or a pad of paper till it was dark. Some days I feel talentless...have I ever been truly talented at anything...I think of myself as a changeling...I can change hobbies, do a little bit of everything but to have a talent its not in my grasp like a changeling could ever stick to one form.
I guess you come to a point when you look back you appreciate the things you did. I'm glad I tried at things then. Even if it wasn't great, I can still say this is my work from when I was 14 and it doesn't matter if anyone else likes it. I'll still remember the moments I wrote them, what I was feeling, the inspiration and the people who supported me.
I can only hope that one day I find that person again. Her beliefs and her motivation. Her drive and creativity. I'm gonna embrace that me with open arms... and some days I'm terrified of growing up. Nothing is gonna be same ever. And juvenile misadventures are a thing of yesterday. I hope that the adventures in store for the future take me to new places and inspire me like I've never been before.
Because all you have is tomorrow cause yesterday is past. So looking up with optimistic eyes is what hope is all about. Who cares if you're nostalgic because without thinking of your memories you'll forget the goals you made as a 14 year old who wanted to be the next Leonardo Da Vinci (*yes I was that optimistic and also indecisive so I figured if he did everything so could I)
Quos Amor verus tenuit, tenebit
Amor Vincit Omnia
Was it a temporary talent for a rebellious frustrated emotional teenager and now that I've grown I've lost the insanity of youth that plagued/inspired my best work? Have I lost roots of myself during my journey and if so can I ever get them back?
A great friend once said "Forget about the people from the past, there's a reason they didn't make it to your future...". If that's the case then why can't I recall how to write the way I did then with those people who changed pieces of me...It should be like riding a bike, written in code in your soul but when I stare at a blank piece of paper I give up before I begin. Poems, songs, stories....I haven't written anything in years and every time I try I feel lost with no map back.
I remember long nights at Barnes and nobles, finding my beliefs, myself, all in a cafe in the bookstore. I remember afternoons under a tree with a book or a pad of paper till it was dark. Some days I feel talentless...have I ever been truly talented at anything...I think of myself as a changeling...I can change hobbies, do a little bit of everything but to have a talent its not in my grasp like a changeling could ever stick to one form.
I guess you come to a point when you look back you appreciate the things you did. I'm glad I tried at things then. Even if it wasn't great, I can still say this is my work from when I was 14 and it doesn't matter if anyone else likes it. I'll still remember the moments I wrote them, what I was feeling, the inspiration and the people who supported me.
I can only hope that one day I find that person again. Her beliefs and her motivation. Her drive and creativity. I'm gonna embrace that me with open arms... and some days I'm terrified of growing up. Nothing is gonna be same ever. And juvenile misadventures are a thing of yesterday. I hope that the adventures in store for the future take me to new places and inspire me like I've never been before.
Because all you have is tomorrow cause yesterday is past. So looking up with optimistic eyes is what hope is all about. Who cares if you're nostalgic because without thinking of your memories you'll forget the goals you made as a 14 year old who wanted to be the next Leonardo Da Vinci (*yes I was that optimistic and also indecisive so I figured if he did everything so could I)
Quos Amor verus tenuit, tenebit
Amor Vincit Omnia