Archive for September, 2013

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 1

Posted in Uncategorized on September 14, 2013 by Comatose Casanova

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Alright so I am taking the 30 day writing challenge to get myself whipped back into the blogging and creative writing thing. For anyone interested in taking part in this challenge then please click the link at the en of the entry to enjoy. This first one I kind of did something different, but I hope it is enjoyed.

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Once upon a time I knew everything. I knew that the sky was blue; I knew the laws of gravity, of attraction. I knew what fresh air smelt like, I knew roughly how cold the water was at the beach snow covered or not. Now I am congested, filled up with all these ideologies, all these ideas that are not my own.  I can regurgitate anything Aristotle said, or write a paper about anything through a Marxist Lens. Once upon a time writing was effortless every thought put to the page was unquestionably my own. Now I question what originality really is. Has it all be written? Has everything of importance been said and what I am doing just merely a reinstatement of those facts and ideas previously presented through the educational system living deep down in the subconscious mind. Even now I can’t shake the idea’s Freud has implanted within the dark corners of my mind.

 

There is only one thing that brings me back to my childhood bliss. One simple plant that allow the free flow of though I so long for.

 

So I sit in a cloud of earthy smoke wishing I had something to write down. The thoughts flow uncontrollably behind my thick cranium in rapid succession as my heart bumps softly matching the docile melody creeping from distorted speakers.  Things that are typically unrelated become unified simulating calmness. Peaceful bliss overcomes; I close my eyes and sail through space. Everything in this world is connected, everything is beautiful. I open my eyes and everything is just a little bit brighter. I inhale softly, with heavy lungs I float past my daily fears and insecurities. I reach that purity. . .that innocents that everyone tries to recapture day after day, work week after work week.

 

This small moment out of the day . . . no one can drag me down.

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