Yeah, I said that I had finally figured something out. That I had finally diagnosed myself. That I knew what it was that turned this semi-psychopathic mind into a burning and quivering mess. It was that fear of being brand new. Those first few steps off onto the dark path, the first step towards the edge of the cliff, the first stroke of the brush. It all scares the hell out of me. Maybe the world would be better if we could just skip the beginnings. Skip the introduction and head straight to the part where we know all the characters, and we feel comfortable with what we did. Or not -- or you're stuck in a pool of regret. But you know what. I'd rather know that I was regretful than not know if I was going to be.
So all signs point towards one thing. All systems go go go forward. Right? Well, there's where the fear kicks in. And for me it's like tripping and falling at the finish line. I can see the damn thing, all I have to do is just reach for it, get up and start walking again, maybe even crawl a bit, but I just can't. I'm stuck staring at the finish line from a distance. And every second counts. And before you know it -- it'll be too late and I'll be disqualified. Wouldn't that suck? Gee, you can see the finish, you could touch it, you could paint it from memory (if you ever got the first stroke down), but you can't get there. Too bad. You're done. It's over for you. Except for the regret.
Well, I can't wait for that.
You'd better write me down
Because you'll forget who I am
Unless I'm right there
And then I'll forget who I am
You'd better draw me up
Because you'll lose track of me
Unless I can watch over you
And unless you can see me
But I can't always do that
And I don't think I would
So at least be thinking of me while you're there
Because that's pretty much all I've got to go on right now.
"You deserve better."
What if I don't want better?
"You deserve some respect."
What if I'm okay with it?
"You shouldn't have to deal with this."
What if I knew I could've stopped it, but I didn't do anything?
"Well then you're screwed."
Yep.
"Good luck."
Thanks.
10 comments:
first thing i did after reading this: went back 365 days and read what you wrote
second thing i did after reading this: went back 365 days and read what i wrote (found out i experimenting with colour and acronyms)
third thing i did after reading this: read it again
fourth thing i did after reading this: wrote this...
i guess it's something about the fear of the unknown. it's fear of "the black canvas". i agree with skipping the beginning, going to where everything works, no matter what happens or happened to get there.
i could say that you wrote this for youself, but would it surprise you that you're not alone? now i don't want to turn this back to myself, 'cause we both know that pisses you off. so i won't go there. but just let me say this..
"we're both screwed"
365 days ago. i remember that. blogs are freakkkyyy!
and the freak of the blank canvas stuff? 200% true.
ya, all systems go forward. but could be in a freakishly backwards way (do you get that?)
i know the feeling with the second stuff and race stuff. its knowing you could do better. (and ill leave it at that)
i said freak(-y-ishly)three times and used numbers twice. im proud.
and. nice pictures. (!). i went to the AGO (art gallery of ontario) today. and saw ansel adams stuff and alfred eisenstaedt's stuff. you would've liked it i think.
(and for art class people: groen would love this: there was a giant canvas hamburger sculpture in the middle of the room...bun, meat, bun...and a pickle on the top. hilarious! can you imagine groen laughing. ooo man, it had me laughing for quite a while)
the last two pictures are gorgeous. they remind me of japanese ... something or other.
i wrote two REALLY short stories about two guys, one named jimmy, the other named jack. they both never took risks. i haven't written any other stories since elementary school.
i wonder if risks are not what they seem. (the 'not what they seem' thing is beginning to bug me though.) i like what you said.
did you take the cn tower one at dinner and a show?
i won't forget you andy. at least, not for a while yet. i don't really know how else to respond to this post.
I have nothing to say but nice pics. skillz ;P
i'd just like to say, that for your last post, 14 is the magic number. 'cause you have fourteen comments, so that's why i'm commenting here.
god, i miss metaphors. and english.
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