I have just so many thoughts, but I'm terrified of posting them here. What I feel etches a line of text in my mind, and I'm terrified of typing it down on my blog. It's a little like running through some up-town, high-fashion clothing store with only your boxers on. But sometimes, I need a place to write, to know what I think, to make sense of what I think. To know that what I think makes sense through writing it down.
But I can't be bothered to write something in a brown diary, and keep it in a forgotten, messy corner of my room. To be dug up and thrown away by an older Joseph who thinks it's thrash.
Walking through a library once, I needed a distraction terribly. And so I picked up a hard cover book with black and white graphics on it. I can't remember the title at all, but I do remember what the book was about -inspiration. I flipped through the pages and met astounding artists, shared a coffee with great leaders and listened to visionaries.
I came across an artist's quote, something along the lines of, "the community is important for my art, without the community, I wouldn't make art. I couldn't be bothered making art for my own enjoyment." Or something like that. (something along those lines)
The artist strummed a chord that made sense to me. I understood. I wouldn't write something, work on something, only for my entertainment, I'd rather be doing something else.
The things I want to say, the thoughts I want to desperately say, I do not want to say to the dust wafting in the corner of my room. I want to say it to people, someone. But I don't dare. I'm afraid of running around Dolce and Gabbana wearing only my boxers.
2 comments:
I like that u write these things.
it inspires me.
its like you articulate all the things I want to say better than I thought it. and there's comfort in knowing that someone else feels wht u feel and thinks wht u think. so that the uncommon becomes less uncommon because one more person shares it.
thanks.
everyone wears undergarments. we're all the same. =)
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