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Perhaps the scariest thought of all: perhaps the lion is upon me. Perhaps the lion is eating me. Perhaps the lion has already eaten me.

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You don’t need to be a painter to be an artist, and you don’t need to be an artist to be a painter.

#dust covered #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #my writing #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #notebook #notebook fragment #dustcover

When you’re young, nothing seems to have sense. Then you grow up, and everything falls into place. That’s it. It’s over. That’s when you realize you failed. You’re average

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #notebook #notebook fragment #average #adulthood #youth #freedom #introvert #my words #my writing #writer in the dark #excerpt from a story i'll never write #writers on tumblr #writing #writer

Notebook fragment #2

When she ran, it was not as if gravity had defeated her with each meeting of flesh to ground. Every foot fall was a deliberate action, a conscious decision to her advantage. But when she pushed away from the earth, when she was sale fed in her own body alone, he was glorious.

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Notebook fragment #1

My brain has a peculiar way of linking you to reserves of serotonin.

#poem #poem fragments #LOOK HOW CREATIVE I AM #notebook fragment

notebook fragment

there would be days when it all seemed formally impossible, his hunger for human contact bordered by a quietly panicked knowledge that he'd have no idea what to do with it if it ever came his way. if he saw someone he knew on the sidewalk he would jolt in another direction. he felt instinctively unready for the enclosing membrane of his solitude to be pierced from without. inside he spoke with himself in a wordless language. he did not trust himself to speak fluently with others. he felt he would stumble like an actor over poorly memorized lines, who by his imperfect mastery of them exposes their artifice.

it was this exposure of artifice he feared the most. he did not trust in his ability to hold up his end of that implicit contract of casual conversation wherein both parties pledge to uphold the pretense of spontaneity. he did not trust himself to follow the prescription faithfully enough to make it appear unprescribed. he knew he would answer "fine" to "what's up?" or "not much" to "how are you?" and then the jig would be up. the theater of social interaction would be revealed irreversibly as such. the magic of spell of feigned spontaneity, which it was his responsibility to help preserve, would be broken. GAME OVER.

#notebook fragment #social awkwardness #enclosing membrane #theater #exposed artifice #game over

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