othelladub's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A-Ha (take on me) I want to write comics. Good comics. Fucking wonderful pieces of literature. I want to create art, full of drama and life and tension and fucking and glitter and dust, and everything I love in the comics that I read. I understand that I have to type and write until my fingers bleed for this to become something more than a dream. This is my life, and I have to do it, or I won't be happy. I'm thinking of moving somewhere like Boise, Idaho and just isolating myself, paying the rent in advance for an entire year, working 2 days a week somewhere for food expenses, and spending the rest of my time writing and reading. Rather extreme measures, but I have to have this in my life. I must have art - I must have blood flowing through my veins again. I don't want to cut myself, only to find ashes shake out, scattering in the wind, falling from my veins. I am in love with color. I am in love with a fresh feeling of life. I need that. I need to smell pine trees in the air. I want to make love in a field, with only the sky above. I'm going to do all of this. Because it is what I want. I'm going to live. I finally realize that I can take chances again. 10:58 p.m. - 2001-08-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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