Writing Is A Great Way To Think
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit
I have to write something again.
Not because this is a chore, but because I could use this time to balance myself a little bit.
We all could do this. Find a way to organize our thoughts.
I only realized this after a response in an article from yesterday by Joshua
I know that nothing created from a position of lower frequency result in a positive outcome. This is an issue right now. Because I feel anger and pain inside.
And I need to externalize this somewhere. Somehow… the current desire is to punch the computer screen. To punch the wall. To punch the glass.
Lets just punch my fingertips into the keyboard for now….
And after a moment of writing a new draft, somehow this anger is diminishing. I’ll try to finish at least something viable of posting today. You know, get the streak going again.
What should I write about? love? A poem? my life? Why not about something new?But to create something new, everything old needs to be purged.
We need to empty the glass in order to fill it with new energies.
Or I could write some confused paragraphs about creativity and general life experiences again. Yeah. That’s what I’m pretty much doing.
Humbling myself, opening up to show raw emotions. And while I do this, I am learning to forget ownership. We hold nothing. We possess nothing.
Because all is ephemeral, our body, which is the most valuable piece of material,is ephemeral. Thus will also be our houses, our beloved ones, and our emotions.
Right when I was about to implode, i felt the urge to get out and realized that we have a world of opportunities around. It’s only after putting our foot on the ground that we become able to grasp the idea that time moves slower when there isn’t much heat in the system.
Because heat is X-factor in the time arrow leaving the past going in direction of the future.
Heat is movement, is action. Heat is the heart. And the heart is movement.
Thus, all this pain inside the heart. It’s only energy. And no matter the nature of energy. It can always be transformed into something else. We can either shoot, punch, or write. But we can choose. This is the beauty of being alive.
Who is afraid to play with words is reacting instead of acting.
And by choosing to give zero shits about the outcome shows me that heat is being transmuted into something uncontrollably better.
Pain became creativity.
Anger became lush.
I just became lighter.
Light.
Love.
Once again.
