Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I'm on a writing binge, regurgitating words and re-swallowing them. Stabbing them with a fork and hucking them everywhere in no particular direction. I can't stop spitting them. Painting imaginary walls with letters that connect to form words, that make phrases that pollute your mind with nonsense. My mind and fingers are craving these letters. Putting pressure on these sticky plastic keys, to make words appear before your eyes. Are they dancing? Are they pulsating? Are they annoying the fluids of your spine? Are they flashing with such ridiculous flair, you want to smash them? To pieces and pieces until they glitter on the floor. Rainbows of bright colors, each color it's own dimension, it's own world. What color is the world today? Today I feel the world is grey, each person is a different color. Decorating this bland world with their personalities. My mind has settled now. Time for bed. Time for the world to be black, speckled with rapid blues, teals, marigold and the occasional red. I don't like when my dreams are Red. Red means nightmares. Black means nothing. Nothing means emptiness. But it also means full. Dark and rich. I'm just trying to paint an abstract picture with words. I'm really not all that crazy. I don't use substances. It's a painting left for you to interpret on your own. Let it mean what you want.