Writer's Block: Band on the run
I discovered something today. We're never where we want to be. There is always a great goal or master plan, why can't everything be still for a while? Each day is another closer. To what? One supposes in a day and forgets it in two. People around me live in the moment of things, but why does mind wander to places other than the present. Last night reminded me of it again--dreams I can't escape; never have. "Find me on the dark side of the moon" I used to say. What does that even mean anymore? An Inapproachable and obscured way of life? I can't complain anymore. I found him. I found someone who finally makes sense; why do I bother with hate? Can't teach an old dog new tricks, perhaps. Perhaps, a change of opinion or realization of the unchangeable nature of our "mores." Despite the fact that I hate Whipple's stuff, writing that dissertation helped me realized how personal art can be to its interpreter. I saw what I wanted and asserted the rest. It was clear, concise, and bold, how I wish life can be.
...to be continued.
...to be continued.