ecovlke's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 11: Dreaming With The Television On Chapter 11: Dreaming With The Television On I know the reader by now must think that my life is very miserible. I would like to say that nothing could be further from the truth. It is true that some really horrible things have happened to me in my life, and that I have done some really horrible things to myself as well. Things that I may or may not write about. Things that nobody but me knows about. But I am basically a happy person. My mind does take me away from the real world a lot, and sometimes this makes it really hard for me to function in it. Sometimes everything becomes so surreal during these episodes. Like a child who has stayed up too late. Also the depression comes and goes like an afternoon thunderstorm in spring. But I try and use these things to fuel my creative passions. My mind never seems to shut down. For me, sleep is like going to sleep with the TV on. You go to sleep with one program on, and you wake up to a different one in the morning. I have thoughts going on right until I fall asleep. I dream of things all night so I really don't sleep well. My dreams can be too active to allow me to rest at times. I usually go to bed late and wake up really early. I love life, and all of the cast of characters that I have crossed paths with on this journey. Like a child I am constantly amazed by simple little things. If I wouldn't get laughed at, I would still play with toys. One of the hard parts for me is that there is so much going on in my head, that I feel like I'm running out of room. I feel that I can't get it out. I can't express precisely what it is that I want to communicate. I don't think I'm going to pull a Mark Rothko or an Arshile Gorky, but it has worried me. I did have a brother who killed himself when he was twelve. But I don't really feel suicidal. I'll just keep plucking away until someday, someone says that they feel what I'm doing. That they feel it like I do. Exactly. Like it was meant to be. No explaining, or them giving me thier way off explination. Just them, the way that after viewing my work, they turn and look at me. And I will know by thier look. No words. Then maybe I'll pass from this life to the next. I'm going to live to be a very old man. This I have dreamed. Maybe tomorrow I'll write about some ideas behind some future works. The new direction. 9:33 p.m. - 2001-09-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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