09 May, 2005-6:38 a.m.
may ninth, 2005: the early morning
I went for a drive today and forgot how beautiful the sky is before the sun comes out.
It was a combination of royal purples, deep indigo and forest greens. A lovely combination of colors to weave in and out of as I wandered down the twisty road of King Street. It was, in fact, so beautiful that I decided to continue my journey foor a little while longer, rather than simply return home as planned, at 5:30am.
Instead, I journeyed on, keeping the intrusive, pale yellows of the rising sun to my left. I had but the shift my eyes to watch the sun infect my dawn.
As I drove on, I was reminded how much I love to drive. It reminds me of freedom. Of flight. It reminds me that I am doing something that human beings are generally not capable of and that, in itself, is a beautiful thing.
I also thought to myself how a lot of my emotions and feelings and dreams and... near delusions, used to be kept at bay through writing. By transforming these things into fiction, it made them less real in my life. I don't know if this is the source of my previous disconnection from reality, or the final defense that has kept me sane. But I want to continue writing. I keep writing more and more these days, yet my skills have horribly atrophied into this self-centered jabbering at a computer screen. I remember when I used to weave tales that were filled with emotions and events I'd never really experienced, but that felt so real to myself and to others. I love this feeling of my fingers gliding across the keys, like I'm forming and painting something with the intricate rhythm I tap into this board. I love when I finish a piece and I feel like I just painted with my fingers until their tips were numbed and worn down. I can almost feel the literary pigments dripping off them. It's a beautiful feeling.
I want to write more and I need to write more. This ranting at the screen is only the building blocks of what I should be doing. I need to stop running off on tangents and start to focus. Discipline is what I need most in life.
I think that by being someone divided by the literarty and figurative arts, both skills must be honed for the balance of perfection to be attained. So when I start to write better and with more purpose, I will paint better as well. I cannot wait to collaborate on a comic with another writer. We are like joining pieces of a puzzle. I am strong where he is weak and he is strong where I am weak. And hopefully when we join forces we shall simply play up each others' strengths so that we are a force to be reckoned with. I believe in the skills of this boy, and regardless of whether or not I believe in mine, he does believe in me. And that is really all I need at this point, someone to believe in the things I do.
I loved dawn this morning. I loved driving around just to follow the colors of it all throughout the three towns that lie interconnected around my house.
I saw the fiery oranges slice through the sky like the wounds on a dying deer's chest. I wanted to stop by the docks and sit atop my car and watch the colors flood the sky. It was too cold, but I think if I were another person, I would ignore the cold to watch it. But I think I would still acknowledge the cold, possibly even end my experience early because of it. I would be sneezing and coughing and it would interrupt my meditation.
It is still spring though. Spring and fall are good times for such sights. There is still time for other journeys in pursuit of dawn. Perhaps sometimes I might have company, sometimes I might not.
Right now, my eyes burn. I still have a good half hour before I really need to go anywhere. I want to pass out so badly. So very badly. I want this entry to post up and then I can build upon it.
I want to continue writing short stories that are mere snapshots of a person's life. Like as though it were a painting of such. I think I need to dedicate my sketchbooks more to both full-on scenes from sitting around parks and the streets, in both words and in imagery.
I am a voyeur.
I will show others the sights I have seen, the sights I thought I've seen, and the sights I wish to see.
This is my goal in life.