Tuesday, 27 February 2018

Too much inspiration gwhakjhskdfjh

I can whine about so many things - the childhood friend who turned out to have real shit happened to them, the current friend with the same, the mold that grew on all our cloths (and damn that was one expensive laundry round), husband's scary allergy, the argument we had the other day - those are severely lacking in catharsis since I stopped yelling some three years ago, so we sit there and have a reasonable, loving, respectful discussion at the end of which I just want to sleep for two weeks - or about plagiarizing backstabbing liar bitch central, I can't believe it's been almost a year and I still can't teach because of that - but, but, I'm still exploding with so much inspiration it literally makes my heart race (no, really; it feels like a panic attack, only a good one) - and there's never even enough time a day to make all the art I have gushing in my head, and I'm like that 85% of the time. It's awesome; I love having grown to be a proper crazy obsessed artist by the book; I just wish I had a time turner or Ritalin or whatever the drug that makes you crazy focused and crazy fast is, because my brain is on self-produced heroin half the time now and chasing that all the time is kind-of-really-frustrating-never-get-it-all-done-chase-chase-chase and those are really rich people problems. I'm amazingly lucky? Yes? Yes. 

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