Thursday, June 02, 2005

A Beige Kind of Day

I write better when I am depressed.

When I am drowning in an ocean of my tears I can write until dawn. When I am lonely or melancholy, words spin my head until I think my brain will explode unless I get them out. Throw in a splash of anger and a dash of despair, and I am Maya Angilou.

Minus that whole black thing.

My entire vision in blurred by common, every day happiness. I'm not referring to true, honest, layed-all-day-in-bed-with-Josh-and-the-dog Happiness. No, no. That inspires me in the same way desperation does. I'm talking plain content. Nothing great. Nothing bad. Content. Being content reeks havic on my creative spirit. When I sit down to write I stare at the blank screen, or piece of paper, and never know what to say. There's the obvious... my obsession with my body, with food, with Josh, my dog, my fabulous friends. But that's so cliche. So boring. So... beige.

I fucking hate beige.

I need colors. Any one would do right now... instead I sit here. in. Beige.
posted by Kellie @ 1:17 PM |

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