I'm finally myself... again. Well, for the second time.
The Lyra post a few posts back was completely true. The tears -were- streaming down my face. And yes, I'm aware that it is almost 3 am, so clearly I'm not fully living my potential.
That is, unless I actually wake up early tomorrow, bright and early, and with a purpose. But the full purpose takes a long time to achieve, I think.
I should write down my random musings a lot more on here. I fell prey to something many writers may fall prey to sometime in their writing career: writing not from the heart, but writing for an audience.
There's a very important difference between the two. The latter gets you the marks; the former gets you [your] soul.
The writer's soul? What is that? I don't know. And I have a hard time calling myself a writer because it is, after all, mostly a hobby. At times it has been a passion, but most of the time, I do it out of boredom.
That doesn't mean that I don't feel passionate about what I write; I absolutely do. It's just that people tend to twist words into their understanding and so I prefer to call it a hobby.
Okay. Next topic. Love.
Today, I met far too many people who say they don't believe in love. I'm not out to challenge that belief; it is theirs, after all, and far too many people challenge other peoples' beliefs just to make themselves feel good. That's not moral.
Did I just bust out morality? I guess I did.
You know, I always had the biggest trouble distinguishing between morality and ethics. I still can't do it off the top of my head; it almost seems like they're the same word sometimes. But I know there's a technical difference, so I'll leave that to the true academics to deal with.
As promised, I'm going to end this post with some multimedia. Here's a picture of something I had to eat a few days ago. I forget what it is. I guess I'll know when I upload the photo.
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| Oh right, it's a curry. |
Kazoo Anticipation Lipsync Enigma Dormant Overture United Graphite Hare Synchronicity Crank Opal Partridge Everlast
