My Humble Abode

The illustrious ramblings of an idiosyncratic fellow (Man of Feeling, perhaps?), complete with nonsensical tintinabulations

Sunday, October 08, 2006

I'm tired of waking up tired...

There are two perspectives on working hard: one is that it is the only way of getting what you want, the other is that workaholism is only good at wearing you down.

Sadly, I think both are true... which means that working hard is the only way of getting what you want, which incidentally also is extremely good at wearing you down.

But I'm not complaining. Personally, if I sat down and really thought about it, I'd rather be tired with a lot on my plate than feel limited and censored. I have the privilege of all the projects I begin, and I have the freedom to pursue my own goals.

It is actually a beautiful thing, made more beautiful by the fact that it is more rare than one would think.

When I think of the countries that do not allow free speech, it makes me sad. I read the news of a russian journalist shot dead for her reports, and I think to myself, even though my writings are rarely as controversial, would it ever really stop me if someone tried to censor me?

The answer would be a resounding 'no'. I am a storyteller, and as such, am not a journalist, and thus am not in as direct a line of fire. Journalism today has become a very dangerous past-time indeed, but if you look at the headquarters of monster intern, you will hopefully see the myriad of controversial things I am attempting.

I hope to bring back the storytelling art in its biblical form. That means my writing is not only about 'dream-worlds' but it is what I truly believe to be an interpretation of the afterlife. When I write, I close my eyes to some degree (and thus fantasize), but I also theorize, I also contemplate about what should be, what might be, and what will be. The Old Testament says, "and first was the word, and the word was with god". Without any intention of blasphemy, I see this as a liberation on the storyteller: any bible is in itself a collection of stories, and the intent of religion is never science but the intersection of fiction and nonfiction, the point in which metaphor becomes true and simile serves the artist.

Is this a blasphemous interpretation? I'm not sure. But the point is, even if others find it blasphemous, I have the freedom to continue on.

What a wonderful world I live in! And I hope to spread this wonder to those who currently have little sight of it... but that will be in due time.

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