The mechanism of my mind

A sudden clarity: I know how my mind works. The mechanism of my ups and downs is suddenly as clear as spring water.

I have declared myself a writer. What this means I wrote in yesterday’s post. To feed the fires of imagination my mind needs fuel. The fuel of imagination is inspiration. When no more inspiration can be found the fires die down and I am left with cold reality; which I can’t live with. What is called the real world is so absurdly pointless to me it bears no living in. I wrote about that realisation earlier this year.

So the simple cure is: find inspiration as often as you can and as much as you can. Inspiration is not found sitting at home. It is found in sitting anywhere but home. Absorbing ever changing impressions. Scenes that constantly replenish the stockpile of inspiration.

Then all that is needed to light the fires of imagination is a pen and a piece of paper. Once the fire is lit I can happily observe the world that makes no sense to me unlit and even smile at it. As long as the fires of imagination burn the real world can do what it wants. I’ve got my own. A much more interesting one.