This blog had deteriorated from professional to personal awhile ago, so I don't see a problem with smacking the shit out of my brain and letting whatever falls out land here.
We were discussing muses in Mythology the other day. Teacher asked if we believed that whatever we created, if it came from us. I said "There's inspiration" and he asked me what I thought that was. I said well according to the handout, that inspiration was the muses. The question then came to what we ourselves believed. I've thought about it. I think it's pretty egotisitical too assume there's nothing out there to tap into, that it all comes from our pitiful minds and greedy aspirations. But as to what....fuck if I know.
I get into "funks", where I just want to DO and be and run around. In those funks I'm restless and prone to freak outs. I want out and in and away. I want to talk about shit that actually matters, with people that actually think beyond their petty problems and insecurities and hobbies (I'm not throwing stones, I have my own load of insecurities and problems but sometimes they fade into the gray and other things become more relevant). Jason's the only one to witness or hear about these, as he was in the position of trust. He doesn't understand them though and I just confuse him.
It's hard to function as a human when you get into those "moods". No one gets you, and that they don't frustrates you to no end. You're just moody and emo to them. I adjust and hide behind a facade. I only know of one person years ago that had these depressed epiphanies, and he wasn't able to explain fully to me either what was wrong when I pleaded to know. Wrong with him, me, everyone. And then, I wasn't able to understand. I think I asked "How can you live like this?"
Heh.
Well, you don't. I pass in and out, and when I'm in I press my headphones so close to me and paint. Sometimes you need the music not just loud but so close to your brain that it's raping your eardrums and you and it are the only things that matter. It's not even the music, the music is a gateway, or an exit. And that's what matters. A way to block out the dribble and inane conversations around you and just think.
I'm guessing this is why I have my love of graveyards, and just sitting there for hours. If the people around you are still thinking, you can bet it's about more profound things then you'll ever be able to tap into.
This probably makes no sense. But it needed out.
Hey, look at that. It's already passing out of my mental system.
Maybe some new art next time kids.
