The Major Lift

I know it's been a while. I know I made promises that apparently I never kept, and said things that seem lies now. But in thsese months I've regrouped, I've looked inside and seen that there were remains of what once was in me, and dedicated much time to healthy rebuilding, reading and listening to music in search for the inspiration, which finally came and now I'm holding onto it for dear life.

The Minor Fall is behind me, and the days of the Major Lift spread out before me and lose themselves in the line of the horizon. They are not pretty most of the time: pages torn, lots of researching, lots of gathering concepts, words and even letters at a time, but I've never felt happier before. Because when I do find a piece of the puzzle, however small, it's like golden light and fuzzy feeling inside.

I feel free, and not tied down by what it is my blessing and my horrible curse. Not the gift of writing but the gift of wanting to write, which is an entirely different thing. But once I realy get started, once that horribly first words and then sentence is over sometimes it's a downpur and sometimes it's a dry struggle, but what comes out of it is water all the same: necessary for ordinary life.

So I cut my hair and dyed it red. So I took that extra step I had always been afraid to, I took a plunge and fell down the Escher Stairs. And though there was no heroic ending or crystal- encased set of dreams in the end - my poor and forever defining reference to The Labyrinth - it was worth every single sacrifice. i faced my demons, and it turned out their shadows were a lot bigger projected against the walls than the things themselves.

So I'll be back talking about daily nothing. Just writing. Not good, not bad, just there. I think that for me it's the best kind of writing there is. I'll clean up this mess, maybe learn a bit of HTML programming, who knows. And I'll retake French on my own again. Somehow it feels better putting it down on 'paper', so to speak.

Yeah, it does feel better...