I can’t seem to find the balance. That’s just the way my mind works. I’m sure there are mental exercises for that, but I’m too lazy.
If I’m in my creative mode, the universe opens itself up for me. I get excited about doing hours of research and writing 2, 3, 4, and even 5 thousand words a day. Nothing else matters.
If I’m focused on actually surviving in this world, creativity gets bound and gagged and thrown in the trunk with the severed, alien infested, tin foil covered, drunk head.
Don’t get me wrong, I still get sparks, but I don’t have the spiritual energy to spear them. They dance off to be captured by the next yearning soul.
That’s the idea of ideas. They’re not original, and they’re not yours. The I puts them out there, and the first wary sucker to capture them wins.
Just remember this:
- I – ID – Idea – Ego – Got – Idegot – Idiot
What does it all mean? I have no idea. I haven’t been given that one yet.
Until next time, don’t bother me, I’m kneading a book.