Another long day of being homebound was another day of unwanted realities sinking in. One after the other after the other. As those sunk, I sunk because that’s how my mental health rolls.
However, I did rise from the gravity of reality and did some drawing today that will soon become painting.
Sorrow inspired today and I’m a little higher than when I sank before.
Feel free to follow on Instagram to see previews of my artwork. I hope to sell someday…
People holding onto expectations in a changing world to the point where they break or submit to delusion is what makes me saddest about everything that’s going on and because I know what that’s like. I hope I’m getting better at staying in the present and trusting my adaptability and awareness, but naturally it wavers because life throws curve balls, quick jabs, and many other surprise attacks that land right in my gut. I’ve learned that in that wavering, that panic, that’s the exact moment you need to be more real with yourself and the situation. Reflection and revelation is so key here, but old habits are tempting, I know. Old coping mechanisms are tempting too. Usually what is “old” is the desire for that familiar sense of control. Change is paradoxically the opposite and the epitome of control. You realize things beyond your control and then do what you can to stabilize again. In the midst of that paradox, I think recognizing the paradox itself helps and may prevent us from the delusions of absolute powerlessness and absolutely control. This really isn’t the time to see in black and white. This is the time to realize and trust your multifaceted self and the multifaceted reality. It seems chaotic until it’s not.
For example, I posted earlier and even today on other platforms about the harmfulness of the racist/xenophobic actions and words, but I have accepted that there are people who will be apathetic to the hate or justify their reasons for doing what they want. I can’t control them, but I can set the boundary, I can stand up for what I believe in, I can block bitches whenever I want lol and I can adapt to the results of my choices. The people who do things that anger me do not have power over my character. Emotional responses to people and what they do are human. At the end of the day, they made choices, I respond to those choices with my own choices, then things happen. Reflection happens. We process the experience and we go on. That’s just life. So, even though I’m sad that some expectations are breeding false hope and pain, I know it’s a part of life and so they’re going to live their way and I’ll live mine.
YEP.
WEREWOLVES.
I just wanted to write about them and what they symbolized in history and what they mean to me.
It’s kind of maddening when you flesh out a good structure for a short story and you try to keep it true to its genre by keeping it SHORT and then new ideas pop up that you know will make it LONGER, but you also know that idea would be SO GOOD for the story because it ties into the theme and enhances the continuity and after that, you only HOPE that as you edit the second draft of the story and hope to have the damn thing published SOMEWHERE, all the rehashing will be worth it and no more new ideas interrupt your publishing process!
Just had to get that out.
Be safe out there.
Hello all,
I had some mental health issues and a cold to deal with last week, so I disappeared. I’m a lot better now and am ready to get back on track. Being in bed gave me time to think about how to publish my upcoming short story. Self-publishing looks like the way to go considering it’s too long to submit to most magazines and too short for any publishing house to consider. I’ll let you know what platforms the story will be published on, Kindle Direct Publishing being a definite one.
It was aggravating having a cold while wanting to write and edit the story so badly. It means so much to me. I took the Kafkaesque approach in a more personal direction where I reflected more on Kafka’s life and my own life rather than focusing on the Kafkaesque genre as it’s known (but it still has the basic elements). That’s why I’ve been so enthusiastic about having it be my first published story. It will open the door to another new project where more music will finally be released.
There’s been a lot of chaos in the world, some of it warrants panic and some of it doesn’t. Art and the forced solitude without art kept me grounded in a strange way. I hope the rest of you stay grounded too. What I love about Kafka the most is his ability to make some sense of the bizarre, even though he’d often conclude to a state of powerlessness, the surrender to that revelation ironically empowered him as a writer. When chaotic or bizarre situations consume us and our environments, we often want to anchor ourselves in a place of control so we can stand our ground and brace the storm, but some of us get carried away by the momentum of the situation and we interpret that as a failure way too often. Change happens. Chaos is constant. Sometimes you have to go with the flow to relearn how to stand your ground. Change is just experience, not a complete loss of power, but of course, there’s still loss.
As someone who struggles with mental health almost constantly, I promise you I’m not trying to make this sound easy.
Be well and wash your hands. My heart goes out to all who are dealing with changes beyond their control.
On Instagram, I said I was working on a Kafkaesque short story and it’s going well. I’m enjoying it while editing the second draft…but I’ll admit that, yes, my focus was Kafka and his influence is clear, and yet subconsciously there’s some Poe influence, maybe Shelley. Ultimately, it’s me. Truly.
The goal is to publish in March. More updates soon.
Unsure if my immobilization
was inspired by one-sided conversation
where you’re pushing, pushing me down
asking me how I ended up on the ground.
“It’s my fault,” I say, “I keep falling.”
Breathing in dust, my brain is stalling.
You command me to walk,
my feet drag and drop
until I see a cliff,
like a true escapist,
and pretend to fall again.
Another lying breath.
Another fall closer to death.
– Kris Leliel
Read another poem: The Prose of the Fool or Peril
Or let me read to you: The Monster Within
