I'm Coming Home (Chaos of the Writer)


I'm coming home...one more dance in the silent room...I'm coming home. What I wouldn't give to have just one more dance under the full moon. Coming home...I just can't shake the feeling that something big is coming my way, for good or for bad...though I think it is really good.  What could it be? This curiosity is eating away at me...my patience is stretched thin...but not in a bad way.  Struggling to write my story and not end it in the saddest way...its surprising to see my old journals, to see for how long I've wanted to write a book.  Makes it easier to not give in and give up, to know this is a dream that is still alive, a reality perched on the edge of a knife. Tip one way, tip the other.   Only under the covers of my mind can I discover the true meaning of these feelings that course through my body... the undisclosed desires which I know rule my entire existence.  Just like thinking this passage is in chaos,  jumping from one topic to the other , for nothing can be done, only allow me to hold on.    The solitary life style I've lead these last few weeks back in that old familiar red room of mine has really opened up my creativity. Red is the color of raw passion and it is here that I do my best work, letting my emotion flow freely, uninhibited as letters materialize by the gift of magic on a page.  I need more somber music. It helps to write, it helps to uninhibit.  It's extremely relaxing.  Word count: 268...271, just can't keep up with the changing numbers.  What will it be like when I go to focus on the novel full time? Will I just end up another bum in the basement? Will I ever get it done.  The journey to be a writer has so many side tracks.  Is this what famous artists felt like? DaVinci? Mozart? Chopin? I wonder...I'd rather wake up beside and breath that old familiar smell. I'm coming home...city and color...maybe some muse...I could use a muse...a sense of inspiration that equals my need to get words out on paper, create places that never exist.  Again I wonder if all artists are always this chaotic and conflicted when they work?  Their work has so much structure and inspiration and it feels like I don't par up...but then again I haven't heard bad things about my work though...I do wish for more constructive criticism sometimes...but I guess it can't be all bad that people enjoy reading what I write.  Shit some people never even get past the small audience in their own minds...some people can't handle the rejection that comes when showing their work...well personal rejection and work criticism lately has me well prepared for that.  It ain't no thing at this point. Shrug it off and keep going. Those who hate it won't even remember it in a few days...that's a good and bad thing I guess. Almost at a page now, haven't really talked about anything relevant...haven't written a word of the work I would like too yet here are some words on a page.  This stuff is chaotic and confusing, yet the chilly and moist autumn air streaming through my window feels like an old lovers caress and I feel calmer, less frustrated.  Who knows what the future will hold, who knows what's around the next corner?  Guess that's the fun part.  The acoustics of city and color start again on repeat...and again...and again...I swear I feel like something familiar and big is heading my way...at any day...and it can only be good...at least I think so...It just feels like something in the cold crisp air is touching a part of my soul that I haven't felt in a long time...feels like I'm coming home as the song says...I remember dancing to this tune...I'll never take any picture cause I know I'll just be right back...I'm coming home...I'd rather wake up beside you...I figured I was the one to understand your sadness, but I guess I should just hold my tongue.  Damn this songs got my mind jumping.  Yet, that old familiar feeling is upon me again... I wish I knew what it meant. I wonder if angels cry? I can feel splashes of water mixed in the air, the tears of heaven? The suffering of hell? Play electric guitar play...I'm coming home.

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