On a roll...

Been on a Marilyn Manson kick all morning... I'm not sure exactly what that says about my mood these days. I have room in my favorite music space for all different sorts of genres, but I tend toward black metal on a daily basis. But he's been haunting me. I don't really care to hear the opinions of others in this community about him. To some he's a god to others he is just an ill representation of human life; he intrigues me. I wouldn't say he's the best thing to ever wander across my spectrum of music, but I seem to find something in his lyrics every time he fades in and out of my headphones. Some times he's significant, for right now he seems to just be amusing me. Some times I relate to him, other times he's a total stranger. I think I just read into the artist behind the music too much...

On to real life...

It's pouring today. Thanks for small favors; cooling off this fireball planet I've been living on for the past week. It's amazing that I haven't lost all of my water weight; unfortunately. At the same time, this totally changes my day. I was attempting to go shopping with my sister to my new obsession; Charming Charlie. Ladies reading, this store is your accessory wet dream. Unfortunately, it's located at an outdoor strip mall. We were going to spend the afternoon strolling along, shopping, and having sisterly bonding time. I think we're rather resolute though; this shopping trip will still happen. Instead we will have to drive around, bond in the car, and run in and out of establishments like little drowned rats. Glad I'm in a white t-shirt today...

Another happiness... Glad I grabbed my umbrella out of my car before heading to the library. My foresight amazes me...

I'm really trying to keep this from turning into some sort of self absorbed study on myself. But really, isn't that what a blog is? I mean, it could be poetry or any other creative outlet. But I've got Marilyn in my ears and he is preaching to my arrogant side. Most people don't see this; I'm very modest. Consider yourself "blessed," if you could call it that.

Often I worry that I'm not as creative as I think I am. That's silly, isn't it? Here I go quoting Nikki Sixx... In his new book, he wrote something like, "Creativity is letting go. It has nothing to do with like or dislike; in style or out of style. It's being hurt and then letting it all go to heal yourself. It's not soft and kind; it's like laying your head down on a bed of nails." I'm paraphrasing, mind you. I think he makes his point, though. Why question whether I am more or less creative than the next person? Well, because I'm overly critical of myself, for starters. Also, before this week, I was very concerned with the thoughts and opinions of others on what I do and say. But fuck that. Those thoughts are gone now. I'm trying to get my point out without giving the impression that I'm on some sort of crusade to be heard. I'm not; just feels good for me to see what I'm typing and know that it's true. I feel better knowing that I'm not constantly trying to censor myself. Everyday people fight against being censored by peers, and I generally sit and do it to myself. Internal conflict, much? Also the cause of my critical view? I answer yes to these...

I don't think that I slept well. I don't think that I ever sleep well. People ask and I answer in the positive simply because it's expected. When one complains of troubled sleep, the very next question that is asked is, "why?" Like they really want to know about the problems. My mind races with worry... Constantly. If anyone has a cure... Send it along.

\m/