And the Well Runs Dry.

Step V
Inspiration

How cripplingly ironic that I am talking about how lack of inspiration has inspired me to write about lack of inspiration.

Sometime ideas come in a flood, a torrent you couldn't hope to halt. And sometimes the well runs dry.

Dry as a bone buried in the desert. Dry as the polite laugh of someone who you know can not stand you. Dry as the tears that stream down the face of a stage actor.

I took a train the other day. Not the kind of train that you ride, the kind of train that wouldn't go anywhere after the lights go off. I don't need to explain myself. I couldn't explain myself if I wanted to. The entire extrapolation of these words from my mind is not only redundant in it's core concept, it obviously tells you nothing you haven't heard before. Still there is always this longing. To create, to experience, to be, to destroy, to dream, to feel, to fall down and scrape your knees on the surface of that which you desperately want to feel. There has been so much said about this "hole" in the soul. People fill it with what they can. Music, drugs, God, family, pets, cars, the suffering of others, the suffering of themselves, laughter maybe even damnation. All in a futile attempt to make themselves whole. I don't think it is a hole.

It is a tear, you see. You are never going to fill it. Trying to fill it is only going to rip it wider. Until you are torn in half. That's the escape. When you stop wanting to dream and you start living a dream. I think it is pretty clear I view reality as subjective, relative to myself and only myself. That means I can define my own existence, my own reality. Hell if I want to, I can define my own fucking colors and shapes and number and words feelings. Maybe just one feeling. I wouldn't want to go overboard. I think I got here by being ripped wide open.

"Oh, swing the door wide open;
show me your jaded eyes.
I will turn them red,
drunk with vivid flame.
You will see again,
and you will learn your real name"

That makes sense the way I see it.

"Debate to understand that we all have a flaw "
"Pain is only a pulse. If you just stop feeling it, you might be able to use the very thing that makes us up."
"Oh God, you're all fucked up for sure."

You're all fucked up for sure.